My Calendar

From off my calendar today
A leaf I tear;
So swiftly passes smiling May
Without a care.
And now the gentleness of June
Will fleetly fly
And I will greet the glamour moon
Of lush July.

Beloved months so soon to pass,
Alas, I see
The slim sand silvering the glass
Of Time for me;
As bodingly midwinter woe
I wait with rue,
Oh how I grudge the days to go!
They are so few.

A Calendar’s a gayful thing
To grace a room;
And though with joy of life I sing,
With secret gloom
I add this merry month of May
To eighty past,
Thinking each page I tear away
May be my last.

(2 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)

Similar poems:

Old David Smail He dreamed away his hours in school; He sat with such an absent air, The master reckoned him a fool, […]...

May Miracle On this festive first of May, Wending wistfully my way Three sad sights I saw today. The first was such […]...

A Rolling Stone There’s sunshine in the heart of me, My blood sings in the breeze; The mountains are a part of me, […]...

Post Office Romance The lady at the corner wicket Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lick it, And on the envelope to […]...

Last Look What would I choose to see when I To this bright earth shall bid good-bye? When fades forever from my […]...

My Will I’ve made my Will. I don’t believe In luxury and wealth; And to those loving ones who grieve My age […]...

Little Puddleton I Let others sing of Empire and of pomp beyond the sea, A song of Little Puddleton is good enough […]...

Spats When young I was a Socialist Despite my tender years; No blessed chance I ever missed To slam the profiteers. […]...

Benjamin Franklin Franklin fathered bastards fourteen, (So I read in the New Yorker); If it’s true, in terms of courtin’ Benny must […]...

Kittens A ray of sun strayed softly round, For something to caress, Until a resting place it found Of joy and […]...

Wistful Oh how I’d be gay and glad If a little house I had, Snuggled in a shady lot, With behind […]...

Sailor’s Sweetheart He sleeps beside me in the bed; Upon my breast I hold his head; Oh how I would that we […]...

Enemy Conscript What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) […]...

Pullman Porter The porter in the Pullman car Was charming, as they sometimes are. He scanned my baggage tags: “Are you The […]...

Decorations My only medals are the scars I’ve won in weary, peacetime wars, A-fighting for my little brood, To win them […]...

Ignorance Oh happy he who cannot see With scientific eyes; Who does not know how flowers grow, And is not planet […]...

The Super When I was with a Shakespeare show I played the part of Guildenstern, Or Rosenkrantz – at least I know […]...

Old Scout Is it because I’m bent and grey, Though wearing rather well, That I can slickly get away With all the […]...

The Bohemian Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were […]...

My Brothers While I make rhymes my brother John Makes shiny shoes which dames try on, And finding to their fit and […]...

The Headliner And The Breadliner Moko, the Educated Ape is here, The pet of vaudeville, so the posters say, And every night the gaping people […]...

The Monster When we might make with happy heart This world a paradise, With bombs we blast brave men apart, With napalm […]...

Fi-Fi In Bed Up into the sky I stare; All the little stars I see; And I know that God is there O, […]...

My Ancestors A barefoot boy I went to school To save a cobbler’s fee, For though the porridge pot was full A […]...

Bird Sanctuary Between the cliff-rise and the beach A slip of emerald I own; With fig and olive, almond, peach, Cherry and […]...

The Pretty Lady He asked the lady in the train If he might smoke: she smiled consent. So lighting his cigar and fain […]...

The Black Sheep “The aristocratic ne’er-do-well in Canada frequently finds his way Into the ranks of the Royal North-West Mounted Police.” Extract. Hark […]...

Poor Cock Robin My garden robin in the Spring Was rapturous with glee, And followed me with wistful wing From pear to apple […]...

The Actor Enthusiastic was the crowd That hailed him with delight; The wine was bright, the laughter loud And glorious the night. […]...

The Parson’s Son This is the song of the parson’s son, as he squats in his shack alone, On the wild, weird nights, […]...