a match is but a flicker—
    a taunting teasing licker.
but a bonfire's a blaze
    which keeps on for days.

the first is just a sign
    of fires yet to come;
looking forward to the future,
    to a song as is a hum.

the bonfire can only look back
    on glories spent and gone
once it has passed it's time.
    and, back to a match, it's done.

the match may live or die—
    prosper or soon become lame.
and the blaze may only pass
    and shrink to whence it came.

and so it is with Adam's—
    small and weak se start.
then boldly forth we forge,
    or never use our heart.

then on to death we march.
    if we have learned to live,
memories, teachings, learnings,
    are all we have to give.

poems i have written: