Stage To Stage Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

One wore hoar age as well as most who count from tear to tear,
as stage succeeded stage geared down, while rage at age’s sting
increased as waning youth began to spread its restless wing,
while all too lucidly was heard furred dreaded footfall near.

One bore sore rage as well as most who post from year to year,
hale Summer paled, frail Autumn failed full promises to bring
to fruit as root from tree and shoot took little comfort. Ring
to ring adjoined seemed time purloined, no raison d’être clear.

One saw Life’s page criss-cross sage stage barred from tomorrow’s cheer,
time underlined, once wined and dined, uncertain everything
became as game and aim turned tame, lost flavour, savour, zing,
lights on life’s stage in turn caged, rage, dim, swiftly disappear.

The chronicle of wasted time, chased hasty jotted down
as witness to fear's tears, last years fast passed in study brown


12 June 2005 revised 19 November 2008