The days are long and lend themselves to pleasure,

The days are long and lend themselves to pleasure,
The nights are times to rest and take my ease.
The years go by and I enjoy my leisure,
A solitary life spent as I please.

My shelves are full of books I had long gathered
Against some day when there is time to spare.
For long I have been free, from work untethered,
And fill my days by reading without care.

But in the drowsy sleep of early dawn
My mind goes back to stories lived and true.
My placid cast of mind becomes withdrawn,
Remembering a distant time with you.

Where is the love and joy of yesteryear,
You on my arm, a future bright and clear?

Terry Wassall

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2 Responses to The days are long and lend themselves to pleasure,

  1. “Lost love and loneliness,” eh, Terry? A beautifully crafted poem that struck a chord with me.

    Well done,
    Bill

  2. Terry Wassall says:

    Thanks Bill. This was my first attempt at a sonnet and the couple I’ve done since did not come as easily as this one did for some reason.

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