Until the match goes out, what do you do?
What do you think about, what makes the most sense to you?
Well, watching the weather, the passing of the years,
The days and weeks and seasons come and go.
One knows there is no danger, never fears
They won’t be back the same or mostly so
As they were last year when you saw them last.
A little change to keep you coming back for more,
To see the difference from the year before--
A new production with a different cast.
The first thought brings to mind a second thought:
It may be time to think on when one ought
To look at one’s last time around the sun.
The time the end is due--the day, the year
He’s due to show and see his duty done,
The old man and his scythe to appear,
His hour glasses hanging by a thread.
‘Your time is near but not to fear, it’s cut
And dried and dignified, I’ve not yet shut
The door behind you, you are not yet dead.
‘Although your time to be is getting near.
On second thought I think your time is here.
Let me amend my second thought; I meant
To say it’s why I’m here. Your time has come,
And right on time,’ says he. ‘Don’t think I sent
A notice to you. I send one to some,
But sometimes I forget. At any rate,
I’ve come to lead you from the stage to soon
Be seen a silhouette against the moon.
And don’t blame me, the one to blame is Fate.’
2010 nov 15 24 25 27 2012 Aug 29 wed d fulgham