For I have no luck! I gamble with my life. Did Lawrence not write of such scandals? The shake, release, and cracking fall, To reveal a one and a six, Again, two and five. Where is that lucky double seven? As you know I have no luck. Youth stole my felicity, you. To an very eager beaver rodent, that whore! Alas a double seven does not exist.
Lady Luck Oh Felicity! Why must you come, with your laden fruit? Let me alone! To stay as dark as the black berries on your bough. A nuisance- blue sky. Let me stay gray and thunder my maidenly tears. Her fate erratic and mischievous, but cheap and glamorous roused me for the thorn's prick. Felicity! Prosperity's fuel, a poet's production. You who! Shake your berries, let me smell the aroma on the breeze. Prune, old girl, vitality flows- juice for one last taste. Come, let me reach and take one last taste of temptation. What is that, Temptation? The breeze blows a note on the abandon bough. Fate tinkles its little bell. Tears flow as I read; Youth stole my felicity. A feeble suggestion to try the virtues of Lady Luck. But the best luck will be found in the wisdom of knowing what an old fool I truly am.
"The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself." -Hemingway, A Movable Feast I hope you have found Summer itself!
