Lilting Laments
And the extents.
You can’t fit a square peg in a round hole
With a hammer and round peg I could
I sit and think, then I wink
This puzzle is made of wood.
Lilting laments and the extent
The mind goes to shut down
When things get tough it can get rough
And I stop for a minute and frown.
Is this the ultimate capitulation
The endings that have arrived
To lick my wounds in lamentation
Or the answer my mind has derived.
In the air, there’s a feeling of freedom
Liberation on everyone’s lips
Ceding is also superseding
The Motown minutes we have missed.
Stepping quietly avoiding the briars
Dancing in between dandelions
Saluting the Sundays of sunshine
The orchestra of nature’s designs.
Lamentations on lips of service
A wrong turn trip or a fall
Readdressed and sent to heaven
Heeding the need of the call.
Ticking off tantalization
One more tempting surprise
Watching the refractions of teardrops
Fall over your cheeks from your eyes.
Pleasure is rewarded with penance
How can something so good go so wrong
How long is the, eight, of infinity?
Can you hear the words of my song?
At midnight in the garden
The whys and wherefores go away
Without that long list, there’s nothing to miss
In a moment that will always stay.
Lilting laments blown by the south wind
A chill in the air for a day
Now gone and replaced by sunshine
Forget the reflections of yesterday.
©
David Rudder
2022
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