UNDER THE SUN


BENEATH THE SUN

Just one chore I cannot shun

'Neath this 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

The dreary ground

With nothing wrong 

When all is wrong

And nothing done

Beneath the sun

Nags again that 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 

 


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