Poetry

(after Dorothy Parker)

There’s a time that there’s pleasure in living,
to it there is something really divine,
when love is essence to taking and giving,
and life sparkles happy like good red wine

but when time does it thing and rushes on
the body looses all its usefulness
when most of one’s days are totally gone;
cynical one views friends with aloofness

while in art you hunt for some catharsis,
some seek the beauty of a younger lady
while they do want the essence of bliss
but life at the end becomes somewhat shady

while you conclude final moves in life’s spell,
to grasp the ways between heaven and hell.

[Reference: “Coda” by Dorothy Parker.]