The Thinking Poet


The World  Upon It's Head
April has her way with me,
so too does May.
Earth makes her demands,
the seed has its needs,
but March mud and May dust
make an inversion;
the old order stands on its head.
"March winds and April showers"
makes a merry jingle for a rhyme;
but times have changed.
and not only times and seasons,
but men and reasons.

Born between wars
that set the world on its head,
yet have I heard and read
of older ways and simpler folk
who, though not untroubled,
(old times knew affliction)
breathed an air blown from familiar skies,
set their pace by the sun,
and their rhythm from the moon;
served the land,
never too late, nor too soon;
inherited wisdom not to be scorned;
knew to be born
was to live with lilt of words upon the tongue.
They learned a craft,
venerated skill,
cherished good,
recognized ill.

But we, with seasons set awry
and the world upon its head,
are damned and double-damned before we're dead.
Ron Cretchley