JUST A LITTLE BIT LONGER

Just give me one more spring

This is all I ask of you

Promise I to take all in

To cherish each tender moment

I know I’ve let you down before

Too taken up with self-indulgence

The frivolous nature of my ways

A lack of appreciation in all creation true

Now as my time comes to an end

I desperately need to witness more

To have the knowledge of bliss and plenty

Then I know I’ll move on in peace

The flowering of a crocus is what I desire most

The overnight revelation of a life new

The bleating of a lamb I crave for

As if I’d never really heard such before

In my melancholy way, my final stance, a question of truce

I harp for all which is simple, fresh and true

No dreadful jagged deceitful complication is my desire

More a thirst quenching need for sane meagre redemption

I do to you pray

A man now to die

Ease my path

Save my soul

Grant my wish

Lord, I am of you

Georges Simeone said …

“Writing is not a vacation but a vocation of unhappiness” 

HAIG BARCLAY says …

Digging deep into oneself brings out sores, regrets and inhibitions

but also aspects of resilence and foresight vital for future encounters”

Personal take

All too often we fail to appreciate what we have on a daily basis – not the satisfactions we crave for in this consumeristic life of ours – but the simple essential pleasures which are available to all. Only in times of misfortune, illness or dread do we really stand back and see what could truly be ours. Often we make a promise to our maker that we will change our ways if just given one more chance.

Imminent death is of course a dreadful moment, especially if aware of its oncoming but also it is a moment to take stock and wonder about wonder and wonder and complete one’s journey in a certain manner.

I wrote this poem knowing of a friend who knew there was not much time left, and I wondered what thoughts might pass through my mind on knowing of such fate to come. As I left him one day I knew it was unlikely we would see each other again and I had to get my thoughts down on paper, a state which occasionally hits me.

I have nothing too much to say about the poem, its words, its flow, its structure, for in this instance I think it speaks very much for itself. Speaking from the heart does have this essential characteristic. If you were to push me and ask me what I like about this poem I would reply – its intensity, its simplicity, its completeness, its hanging together, its choice of adjectives and use of nouns. That’s all.

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