Take some time now while you can,
As living woman, living man,
Because a life is all too brief,
And left unsaid, we, in our grief,
Cling on to things that were not meant
And said in haste before they went.
Rather, choose now, while you may,
To say all that you need, I pray.
Defer not till tomorrow since
(And though I fear I’ll make you wince)
For you, tomorrow may not come
But time to rue things left undone.
Stephen Tomkins
22 July 2016
Hong Kong
Cutting his losses, the Sun quits the fight
As his silvery glow soon gives way to black Night.
Mercury sinks to his bulb and hides there
And wintery Cold, now, her triumph declares.
Yet born of the harshness of this icy void,
Like debris from the death of some meteoroid,
The delicate crystals drift down from the Sky
Though she’s no longer seen by the sensitive eye.
The tentative Snowflakes send down a few scouts
Then an increasing flood as if pouring from spouts.
They all look the same but, on examination,
Are each one unique and a fine revelation.
Though we complain, we seem drawn to the Snow,
Maybe, deep down, it’s because we all know
That outward appearance is pleasant enough,
But oftentimes that can be merely a bluff.
Stephen Tomkins
4 June 2016
Singapore
A strange place to be thinking about snow!
Photo credit:
http://www.travellerspoint.com
Pondering Poet Pilot 