It comes in vertical embrace,
Upward journey into the wee of night.
London bells, like I have heard.
Sweet sleep perturbed by zazzy waves
And tick-tock race, chasing my dreams.

It comes so soon as it fades so fast,
Racing tracks to no end.
Talk yester-in, then the reach.
Splattered sweated ink on whitened blank
With plans to feed to it.

Plan for it, work by it and rest in it.
Think headwise and not waistwise.
Head seed first, ends in fame.
Waistful thought, ends in pain.
Aborted tomorrow is fathered by ignorance.

Those that fore-look, rejoice in it.
Those that wish-watch, regret in it.
Today’s seed is its tree.
Take the pill for its pain
And tomorrow is all gain.