Depressed dreaming death,
Deadly drive dare defer dreams.
'Dear... death' deemed divine?

A mind weighing worthless fortune
with foul ability's stench in the dusk-ish air
(pardon the jest and useless ridicule
in the above words' toneless tune)
has no love saved
no godspeed wished
no warm departing greeting
for the luckless, weak, and unwilling,
for the mind knows
the Rights Man made Rights so.
And it is so.

Here's to life and living, a summer hue,
and wish and want and given too
much of much and little of little
with a point that pierces smiles — brittle,
(for a point that ends is an end after all)
brittle — to shatter summer to fall
to landscape shades made dark by blue
passing right after a finer hue
then to darker shades made dark by grey
leaving life and living to wintry way
then Summer weighs into Winter's call
for a point that ends has no point at all.

Here's an ant
a friend,
a little lithe selfless ******
and not a bother
for, brother, you must know
the ant is born to be
a weary worker,
quiet and solemn but free.
And he listens
till he bites to feel
a real emotional squeal
from you, who loves and cares and knows and such
and squishes
to let the ant, the friend, be the friend, the speck.
A flying speck.

Gluttonous gapes and jibes jape and gibe
at a fine summer drinking wine
in solemn derisive disposition.
For 'tis summer!
and no wine tastes sweeter
than a glass of mockery, fear and dread
helped with honey-sweet spices and lead
'til the bitter wait
past the flooding litres and the sodding litter
into a halting cringing demeanour:
hatred incarnate, deathly pale and slaver wet:
the season's ending hangover get!