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Between Wakefulness And Dreams
Quite often late, at evening‘s edge, ’tween wakefulness and dreams,
I pause to muse on wedded vows, and all their promised means;
the bond between two lover’s souls, the bond between two hearts,
the hope those bonds endure the test, tho’ oft’ sure hope departs.
My summer’s waning, days grow short, my autumn’s poised to set,
my life’s recalled in retrospect, recalled with some regret.
Perfection’s ne’er expected long, for often flaws prevail,
and often spouses stumble hard, too often spouses fail.
With age comes wisdom, so they say, with age comes intellect,
but age can bear reality, and loss of self-respect.
The truth’s quite often painful, and truth’s quite often cruel,
as age and truth walk hand in hand, age oft’ conceals the fool.
Who understands a mate for life, who understands their thought,
who knows if truth has been a sham, and time has passed for naught,
for truth‘s in each beholders eye, and life’s ne’er as it seems.....
The guilty weep at evenings edge, ‘tween wakefulness and dreams.
