|
Procrastination
If
there’s
a
book
you
want
to
write,
if
you’ve
a
song
to
sing,
pick
up
that
pen,
lift
up
your
voice,
for
time
is
on
the
wing.
You
may
not
have
another
chance
to
play
your
drum
and
fife,
for
no
one
knows
when
death
will
still
the
pendulum
of
life.
I
knew
a
gifted
artist
once
who
put
his
brush
away,
deciding
he’d
not
paint
at
all
till
he’d
spent
time
at
play.
In
prime
of
life
the
Reaper
came
and
heaved
a
dooming
breath,
then
snatched
him
up
without
a
blink
and
hurled
him
into
death.
How
sad
to
view
his
canvas
now,
a
waste
beyond
compare;
procrastination
was
the
choice
that
left
his
canvas
bare.
Copyright
©
2000
Ruth
Gillis
Previously
appeared
in
the
May
2000
issue
of
the
Inspirational
Poet
|
