Distant Drum - Double B[l]ind

When boom doom of once distant drum
turns life's laughter topsy-turvy;
when ghost of Chrismas-yet-to-come -
what the dickens! - makes one nervy.
When game is played out, distance run
seems insufficient, just observe the
sum of all the ‘good’ one's done
weighed with feather – ‘Saints preserve thee! ’
When Past and Present seem as one
with Future, Truth and Untruth see
as jokes by the eternal [N]One
to pinion blind humanity...

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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