and so it goes

 into a simple word time won't congeal
we're always driven by the need for haste
still rest and contemplation have appeal
though as we surmise not to every taste
the memory we cherished long erased
each day we drive each other to the chase
not sure or knowing how each ugly case
will lead us from the intuitive leap
will keep us distant from a vast disgrace
we solve each problem while we're fast asleep

our purpose in the end to sign and seal
certification of the warmth embraced
by those who will in time to justice kneel
the first desire is by the best replaced
and in clear amber memory's encased
we won't forget that moment's interface
though others might our steady path retrace
we know those things that in recall we'll keep
behind protection both of sword and mace
we solve each problem while we're fast asleep

each turning of the annual star-wheel
returns us to the signs we long have faced
to see the sparks take flight from clashing steel
in manner that no one could find debased
we find no honour in excess and waste
but for a coming onslaught we must brace
acknowledging that all change comes apace
and reasons for the process are not deep
not one of us will turn out a scapegrace
we solve each problem while we're fast asleep

prince you withdraw from us your normal grace
afraid what happens when we reach your place
there's time to laugh and far more time to weep
but all in time will lose the longest race
to other voices we must grant due space
we solve each problem while we're fast asleep

another planet

 empty the ocean vacant all the land
a single bird cries although none will hear
there is no human who would understand

all things are tied up with a neat riband
the made and unmade are no longer near
empty the ocean vacant all the land

we look in vain for a creative hand
or for a heart to hold the world still dear
there is no human who would understand

the silence and the noise were both unplanned
and not a one is left to shout or cheer
empty the ocean vacant all the land

no music comes from instruments of band
no critic speaks generous or austere
there is no human who would understand

not even echo upon this last strand
absence alike of courage and of fear
empty the ocean vacant all the land
there is no human who would understand

night beginning

 

dusting of stars
up in the sky
the lights of cars
go swiftly by
a single tree
covered with lights
is what i'll see
on all these nights
too cold to walk
too old to dance
no time to talk
a proper chance
to be inside
away from cold
no place to hide
the storied gold
an age or two
may slowly pass
what's old is new
returning grass
we long for spring
and its warm light
the kind of wing
for honest flight
and so we pause
and think a while
of the firm laws
that none defile
the time to smile
the time to speak
the longest while
the shortest week