For Those At Work
There will be time for further talk today.
Nay. Not today. We’ll speak of things and games,
Amusements to wash away constant sorrow.
Today we finish what was started long,
Long ago. Remember back in the day?
So far away and yet a living time,
Still pictured in the space of my own eye.
Do I spy a joy in duty and pain?
There is a distinct pleasure in one’s work,
One’s only work and it is ecstasy.
I am so in love with my own beloved soul.
Agonistic to say “I enjoy me”?
Would you take offense if I enjoyed you?
Whenever we two do meet today know I wish:
To know that you had joy and played today.