How fleet of foot is dream-spun Hope;
and how Despair, her lead-shoed sister,
trips a clumsy way to fill her place!
How fair and rosy Hope’s sweet cheeks;
and how their bloom is lost to mind
as glum Despair’s sad visage fills our eyes.
How fickle, that our foolish minds
oft mark these twins we woo unequals
as we come and go through life’s wide rooms.
How quick to judge, and hurt from judgment,
paint another’s Hope, Despair;
gloat to see another’s sorrow.
How fleet of foot is our sweet Hope;
across the room, her doorway shadow
hides in double dark, Despair.
How soon the tables turn eternal –
spin, reflecting like a mirror;
Hope and Despair mere phantasms.
How we dance, by Hope enamored;
hounded by Despair, we crawl.
Constant changes make life’s music.
24 JAN 2017
