my sunday poem … # 17
Hello. You find me in reflective mood today. The seasons are gently slipping by – just as they surely must. Life is a wonderful gift and we must never waste a moment.
I am reminded of some lines from To His Coy Mistress by the 17th century metaphysical poet Andrew Marvell.
Had we but world enough, and time …
But at my back I always hear
Time’s wingéd chariot hurrying near;
I wrote Summer Song quite recently. It concerns the transient nature of life. Carpe diem and all that. It is also about my deep-rooted love of literature and writing. When I was young I could draw upon the creative energy, joy and crazy hope that the world constantly offered. It all seemed to be achieved with comparatively little effort. Now I find myself drawing deeply from the well of memory and experience. Hope is an ever-present flame and joy is the reality of being here with the people and things that I love.
1951 Club 