Toil

The joy of toil is never old,
To sit alone and work among,
Those voluminous works of old,
As if to dig a mine of gold,
Or sing the song the blue bird sang,
As if to swing high and back,
From a sturdy swing of an old tree bark,
And while I swing, my feet do feel,
The softness of the clouds above,
The clouds like cotton or soft candy,
My feet aching to go higher still,
To learn till I breathe my last,
And if I can, keep learning still.

To learn in the silence of my heart,
As if to walk in its chambers red,
And sing the songs of Lord Alfred,
The heart beat giving a steady rhythm,
And on the throbbing fleshy walls,
I write in writing neat and bright,
The words of Wordsworth and his likes.

But on the deepest part of my heart,
The part that decides life and death,
I’ll write in ink indelible,
What in untidy papers Shakespeare wrote,
And may the blessed Saviour see this,
And take pity upon my foolish heart,
And help me to write, to make a start,
A work that my heroes would themselves like.

Wendy Speaks

So he decided he won't grow up?
H0w very clever! How very mean!
How adorably innocent and yet,
How heart- breakingly bold!

Making a Start

January 1 2009!
Finally I awake,
From the slumber of well fed ignorance,
To see a beautiful day,
Or pretend to see a beautiful day.
But isn’t that always the case,
We make our own sunshine when none exists,
Sing hymns to a God we do not see,
Repent for what we are told is sin,
And argue a line that is not ours.
A year, an entire year ahead,
Lays stretching its paws and looking dumb.
What am I to do with it?
How am I to pretend,
That all the many things I want,
Fame and money and wisdom’s worth,
Will come to me in manifold?
How much further can I lie,
To be the master of my reserve?
As it stands this very hour,
I can turn back to my bed, not far,
Go back into my peaceful state,
Deep sleep is a gift. Be brave.
Or I could go out into the cold,
That inhuman place they call the world,
Do what every common soul does do,
Break my back for a pennies few.
Not much choice in there does lie,
Peaceful death, I still choose life.
Away with comfort, pity and vice,
Beyond them all I’ve set my eyes.
To becomes a creature strangely common,
Or die in my perseverance to try.