BENEATH THE SUN

BENEATH THE SUN

Just one chore I cannot shun

'Neath a brief and hidden sun

Just that task 

The barest ask 

Soon be done 

Yet not begun

 So circles stead

This sloughy head 

Round and round

A dreary ground

With nothing wrong 

When all is wrong

And nothing done

Beneath the sun

Nags again the dismal voice 

 Says that I will rue this choice

A time for this!

A time for that!

 A time to spin

The pointless plates!

And yet to treat my soul's dis-ease

I'll do today just what I please 

A time to view the winter haze!

A time to mourn the Janus days!

With nothing done

Beneath the sun