Some Little Thoughts
by Raymonde Sacklyn
The Song of Yesterday
On the fires of yesteryear’s thoughts
of red,
When youth was first aroused,
And mornings brought unmentionable thought
Of dread, lest peers might haze
On hearing of another’s salad days,
In the blaze of another’s awakening:
Blow, blow the winds of time!
Sing that song of yesterday’s colour:
Music sublime?
Where did those sunlit thoughts of
time go?
When did the hot passions of days of yore
Sail in a blow for another shore, different from before?
On the smoldering embers of every man’s pyre,
There one will recall youth’s insatiable burn;
Those days! Gone forever; never to return.
Freeze, freeze, the frost is here,
No more the sweet melodies:
Nothing to hear.
Time to lie down on that final bed,
Apparitions not visions of loveliness
Swirl in one’s mind – So unkind!
I beg this life to stay, but my ebb tide is nigh.
One trite idea comes in failing breath – I sigh:
No longer shall I reap that which I sow,
The wind shall no longer blow;
The icy cold no longer can bite;
I sleep: Goodbye!
Good night!
