Tag Archives: mortality

Bits Of Data Fly

Bits of data
Sooner or later
I shall die.

Wonder why
Should care
My words will go
For I know
That the winter snow
Will cover all.

Perhaps a few may recall
A word I said
When I am dead.
But in my graveyard plot
I shall know it not.

Why this conceit
On my part
that others should repeat
Let alone understand what lay in my heart?

I would
Do good
But know
I have not always done so.

Sitting here in this winter weather
I see a feather
Float on high
Through indifferent sky.
The wind will sigh
When I am gone
But not for me,
Though I shall be free
As wind and sea.


Do Those Who Drink Of Lethe

Do those who drink of Lethe
Find surcease
From pain?
Or do they wrack their brain
In a vain
Attempt to regain
What is forever, lost?

O to be free of regret
And forever forget
A life ill spent.
But what cost
To drink
Of Lethe and no more think,
But merely to do
As like some automaton
We wander through
Where memory fades
And days are as one.

The departed are gone
But know it not, or perhaps they do
As tears may break through
When half remembered years
Enter the head
Of the living dead.

All men meet the ferryman, but not all fear
The guide
Who carries us to the other side.
It is Lethe drear
That inspires most dread.
The Greeks said
That the ferryman comes before we quench our thirst
In Lethe’s waters.
But no, ‘Tis not always so
For sons and daughters are left behind
When loved ones find
The river where memory fractures, before the body dies.


On such a day, when the winter sun
Casts my shadow upon yonder wall,
It is difficult to recall
That all
This will, one day, be done.

In future, will some other one, sitting here and seeing their shadow fall
Upon this self-same wall,
Know that they may not forestall
The night
Where dancing shadows are forever lost from sight.

(Written on 3 December 2016, while sitting in my study).

(Note: “Shadows” can be found in my latest collection of poetry, “My Old Clock I Wind”, which is available from Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0735JBVBG and from Moyhill Publishing, http://moyhill.com/clock/).  

Walking through the churchyard, I saw a shape

Walking through the churchyard, I saw a shape.
There can be no escape
From the tomb.
The gloom
Is there
For those who care
To look beyond a sunny day.
continuing on my way
I passed that tree,
That did loom
Over tomb
And me.

There Is An Equalitie In The Grave

There is an equalitie in the grave
Where the brave,
The coward, the rich and the poor
All must bow down,, to death’s all conquering law.

In the beds of the living,
There may be mutual giving
And equalitie,
But love may not always be free