Regular Rite Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Daily drain, pain, regular rite,
bus, taxi, train, commuter’s delight
This is our bane, societal blight.
Come shine or rain, at dawn’s first light
from counterpane most expedite
chores that contain naught to excite.

For others’ gain many work, quite
stressed with the strain - for self, scope slight.
Who can complain with jobs too tight?
Tied to a chain from morn to night,
who dare refrain mourning Man’s plight,
few aims attain, most sink from sight.

Some brains stand strain others wane quite,
ambitions lain hidden from sight.
Castles in Spain, “work is a right”
most men maintain, logic airtight.
Time and again dreams beam hopes bright.
Goes ‘gainst the grain, age turns contrite.

When might Change reign? not overnight!
Rut self-sustain most hopes indict,
Wealthy retain options, excite
system’s greed, gain, worship uptight.

Some, thought insane, struggle despite
pressures too plain that underwrite
those who champagne sip with delight
while most remain too flaked to fight.

Here rhyming strain scarce erudite
ends sonnet vain none need recite.

Sonnet versions 2 October 2005 and 14 November 2006