Some Little Thoughts

They spoke only sparingly
And their eyes met but fleetingly,
Across the crowded room;
And, then, they parted:
She her way; and, he, his.
They never met again,
But he thought of her,
And she thought of him.
The flower never reached maturity:
It never, then, could bloom.
 

Fate determines the way
Of the game, and who shall play.
Try as man might
To learn the rules,
Invariably, he ignores the simplest law
And, by so doing, loses when the final tally’s made.
Life passes by all men and
The clock that ticks for me,
Ticks for you, too:
That is our mutual plight.
 

To refuse the invitation to that one last dance
Is to fail: Gone, forever – The passed-up chance;
To make no attempt to break the mould
Is to fail yourself; and, to fail the love for life.
To see no morning bloom;
To see no sun descend;
To watch no new life stir, shaking off the yoke of night;
To beckon no new virgin day,
When life is born anew,
Is to lose the final race: For winning is reserved, only, for the bold.