19 Apr 2016 – Ghazal
A dandelion, falling from the sky, a seed of fate.
My one sure destination was the one decreed by fate.
A couple thousand down and just a thousand every month,
and long before you hoped you’ll hold the title deed to fate.
You cross the fortune-tellers hand with fists of hard-earned gold,
just pay a visit to your mother’s grave and read your fate!
It’s daylight, now descending after nights of steady rain,
it’s time to queue like cattle for the clowns who force-feed fate.
Just drop the dice and leave the gaming tables once for all,
you’re no exception – only faith can supersede one’s fate.
Come on, Olde Foole, go take your seat and wait for Spring’s reward:
a blaze of blossoms – even rainy skies concede that’s fate!