The climbers sit and laugh at me
upon their pedestals
for wasting precious time on pious hopes
A puerile, timid slouth
who seized not moment, chance nor day
Thus never learn'd to use
or know the ropes
I wish I'd last at least thro' a millenia
that I may come of age before grown old
Or live thousand lives, thousand ways
to find the 'Philosopher's stone' amidst fools gold
Misunderstood I have stripp'd and desert'd
from uniformed soldiers I don't understand
The Jack-of-all-trades hath no Jill to trade with
A pinion robb'd robin from lochs, leas's bann'd
When I be fain to toil in tears and sweat
jaunty and willing
To pay the baillif my collection-debt
with every shilling
When but a ruskcrumb is left in the larder
still I have to say grace
And gain in my bedpost a notch seems harder
than wrinkles in my face
then…
fetch me a map from science to fiction,
preternatural compass to guide me
Will o' the Wisp come light my way
I've been lost and gone astray
Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd
- a labyrinth I roam
Light me a lantern spark'd and fann'd,
a stranger in a stranger land
I'm without purpose, tool and faith,
come show me my way home
Any simpleton would grasp the nettle
tho' he's surely stung
But then again all hell is full of fools
A lonely shepherd come home shorn
since gone for that he lost
Thus left his sheep, stay'd home
and gather'd wool
I yearn'd to make the most of
youth and childhood,
now dying, trying to catch up with time
One day I'll be gone, this I still cannot figure
With such a sentence is life my crime?
Unappreachiated I've search'd for my Judy
only to find one to many a punch
A dove in a battle makes like fish a nice kettle
With olives as first course
they'll have fowl for lunch
I'm the exception that proves the rule
- 'sui generis'
The prodgigal son of a different school,
the blackest sheep there is
The pagan 'mongst christians,
to fillies a dark horse
(Before the storm I flee...)
A settler 'midst migrants,
thy rebel without cause
(...when others have their tea)
Fetch me a map from science to fiction,
preternatural compass to guide me
home
Tapster come bring me an ale
It be my 'Holy Grail'
to soothe my thespian wail
Creed
I've court'd with Venus
till'd pastures for Pan
Drunk health bacchanalian
time and again
To tired to hunt for a faith that is fit
'Acedia' mine 'idol' hath not help'd a wit
In My Darkest Closet
My closet hath no skeletons to upbring,
yet plenty of other mysterious a thing
Conspiciuous by absent tho' Narnia be,
when lock'd in with ease the harder to flee
To find peace of mind I hide from the war
that rageth outside the door
Will o' the Wisp come light my way
I've been lost and gone astray
Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd
- a labyrinth I roam
Will o' the Wisp come light my way
I've been lost and gone astray
Fed on shewbread, philtre starv'd
- a labyrinth I roam
Light me a lantern spark'd and fann'd,
a stranger in a stranger land
I'm without purpose, tool and faith,
come show me my way home
I'm without purpose, tool and faith,
Will o' the Wisp show me home!