springtime beginning

rain lightning thunder hail the complete set
of springtime storm fright and precipitation
enough to drive us all through trepidation
to courage enough to endure becoming wet
not for some idiotic wager or dumb bet
but with concern each for their reputation
(though all the rawness brings on sternutation)
for work demands we put aside all fret
and here's the crowd they all arrive at once
to do the kind of work we can't get done
to get all things in order through the house
it makes one seem that one is a real dunce
but in the absence of the warming sun
one does the job for oneself and one's spouse

limits of reality

 

not for us the greater treasures
nor the larger water's tides
we will seek the smaller pleasures
little gifts and shorter rides

at our summoning the sunlight
only comes in fits and starts
but the magic if it's done right
warms the hardest human hearts

not for us the howling torment
of the hurricane's great power
but the sudden light of shore meant
to indicate the lovers' hour

when we call on it the hearthfire
gives its colour to the walls
and the gifts to which we aspire
provide the joy that never palls

not for us the sunlit beaches
of the far-off tropic lands
rather the less remote reaches
where the water meets the sands

with the limits to our wages
come the limits to our hopes
yet only the veriest fool rages
he who knows the way just copes

not for us the the magic sunrise
that will light up the whole year
rather we will see the fun rise
when we've got rid of our fear

at the boundaries of our place
there's a shimmering of light
we're the masters of our own space
from morning till the fall of night

not for us triumphal entry
to the city of our dreams
but the task of standing sentry
nothing taken to extremes

a door may open

if you've got a real chance to change accept it
there's nothing that should keep you in firm place
like an eager horse you're champing at the bit

no reason to dig yourself deep into the old pit
your passport's written in the lining of your face
if you've got a real chance to change accept it

you know what's there the necessary split
between the old and new that's the real chase
like an eager horse you're champing at the bit

new place new hours new purpose and new kit
what other things are left for you to trace
if you've got a real chance to change accept it

the moment comes when you'll not have to sit
on any fences you know there's no disgrace
like an eager horse you're champing at the bit

all this comes within the limits of your wit
you need to be the master of your space
if you've got a real chance to change accept it
like an eager horse you're champing at the bit

Spelling reference

 We'd call our friend a Tolkien in minuscule,
except that he sees himself as a Gandhi;
we'd give him credit, it's our usual rule,
but he tells such fine stories when he's randy.

The new millennium seems a total bust
but we look for a new tale by Delany,
filled with excitement, envy, and some lust,
deeply sociological, we'd say, not zany.

There's no embarrassment, we tell you meekly,
in having written poems on Making Light;
it won't get you into Publisher's Weekly,
but on your web-page it will look just right.

An odd occurrence, that is what you tell of,
when you found the first edition of a book
written, it turns out, by the great Asimov
behind the chair in your old reading nook.

We'd accommodate you in our hierarchy
since you'd otherwise be the ghost at the feast,
but, since this is a Dahlian polyarchy,
you'd have to become a deity at least.

A pharaoh you are not, of that we're certain,
Teresa's mocked you for your petty pains;
you retire in indignation past the curtain,
your tears come down as moderate spring rains.

It's fortunate that you aren't like The Donald
and injure reputations for a lark,
you'd have to deal then with good Jim Macdonald
and its ten to one that he'd put out your spark.