~

and this is what he crooned:

~

I’ve reached the point of saturation,

too much becomes too little

and too little becomes too soon.

~

I drag my pen in desperation

and nettle the pox of gloom,

whilst the sun beats down its lovely light

in hopes of hearts to swoon.

~

It goes this way the entire day,

or, at least until it’s noon.

~

Oh! why can’t I pick up the gist,

but blunder through the boon!

Must I await until too late,

then lift my heart at moon?

~

Such wastefulness, distastefulness,

a blaggard and buffoon!

~

I need to lift my doleful drift

into a bountiful tune.

~

The gift of this, I should not miss,

for all is gone too soon!

~

So thus began this woeful tune,

I see but now, poltroon!

.

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Copyright © 2012 Marvin Loyd Welborn. All Rights Reserved.