My Friend John Poem by David Burton Richardson

John won't be at work today
This day of dark and dismal cloud
The Trees are bent and look away
And dare not think aloud
The black bark bitching blue
That tethers all leaves down
Is but a dream and bitter frown
And John won't be at work today
Forget the clock and all its time
And let the wind become the chime
For it is set to strike the hour
When time no more can hold its power
And John won't be at work today
The body gone the mind is lost
And all is drained away
With bitter gaul and rancid past
We see a World that will not last
The future gone we see the past
And we know that John won't be at work today
The wall is built, the roof of Slate
Is all but done, the Garden gate
Looks toward the field of Corn
The Trees of sorrow dare not mourn
The Birds still sing but do not play
They will not gather amongst the Hay
And all around this dismal land
Knows that John won't be at work today.