All the Jesters

For me it was the Seventies – that I can’t now remember!

                          All the Jesters

        All the jesters of my youth have departed.

        The actors, the minstrels, and the comics

        with their catch phrases I’ll never forget;

        their ready laughter without any regrets,

        and their easy grace of irresponsibility.

        My life was lit – like a moth to their flame,

        when I became consumed in their fame.

        Those high priests of pleasure,

        with all their pleasure spent,

        upon the idle altar of amusement.

        Carelessly, we kicked the sun into the moon,

        In that cloudless summer in which we played,

        as the nights became pups to our dog days.

        But youth must have its end – when all too soon,

        the sun ate the day – and swallowed the moon.

        All things shall pass away – they cannot stay,

         and what’s passed let’s now leave in the past.

         So my friends – no more drugs and guitars:

         it’s now a cold chablis – and a deckchair on the grass!

                                                                     © D G Moody