My Waltzing Words

Falling asleep

or falling in love

both make one think something comes from above

faith takes a leap

like the flight of a dove

heading away to an apricot grove

 

bountiful mercy upon thy sweet lips

which quivered in fear when the demons awoke

tightened and pursed as all thine old quips

suddenly to all the worst are exposed:

thyself

 

fear not awareness of your own faults

sit ’round and wait while around you they rove

soon begone they’ll be, keep heed of your thoughts

new water must always take heat from the stove

 

kiln hardened clay pots

wrought iron must hammer bear

old fruit always rots

and used leather ‘ventually wear

 

the old die younger

and sooner die the young

candles burn quicker

where’s your lantern been hung?

 

what do you with that short candle

flickering in all oscure dark

keep it over life’s tall mantle

far to yet for light but not to spark