Shade

The journey is long
Well nigh endless.

Though the burden be heavy and loathsome
It must be carried along.

Through the twisting road glimmers of hope you will see.
Be not distracted-False hopes to waylay fools!

Fool was I! Maddening scent of life that came from the shade.
Wild flowers, violet grass. Soft to the touch, fragrant.

"A minute's rest will do me no harm." Said I to myself.
Wind that blew in the grove was too soothing I fear.

Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days and so
Many days passed.

Awakened at last by a fellow traveller I felt feeble and old.
The best days of my life slept away.

Twisting and turning with dreadful regret-to no avail.
That which time sweeps away is kept to its bosom forever.

Fools will still stop by the grove and lay their burdens down.
They will regret as I have done.