I have written poetry all of my life,
Intermittently over the years,
Playing at mastery,
Playing with sorcery,
Little magic spells,
Cast not with crystal and wand,
But with quill and felt tip,
Art that enchants this golem,
Enchantments wear though,
And one day,
One fateful day,
I shall write my final poem,
Cast my last spell,
And nobody,
Not even I,
Shall know when it shall be.
WorldofHarley 
That’s like the end time, no one knows what hour.
A valid point, to be fair.
The Oldschool Harlequin
excellent! ❤
Thaaaaanks! ❤
The Oldschool Harlequin
Wonderful poem. I’ve thought the same about a lot of things—we never know when we’re doing something if it may be the last time. 💕
Thank you kindly! Absolutely true my friend. I suppose we ought to make the most of every moment eh? 😊
The Oldschool Harlequin
Yes, but most people, like me, didn’t realize this until they’re up there in years.
July 💕
A very good point my friend.
The Oldschool Harlequin