I, who was born just yesterday

have aged with speed

yet been gifted great deeds

how the sweetness of life enthrals me!


my riches are vast and deep

love is the only treasure I wish to keep

rich memories to the grave will I take

how the sweetness of life enthrals me!


life though brief is filled with  purpose

finding mine completed me

and on judgment day, I wish to sing,

“how the sweetness of life enthrals me!”

©Vivian Zems

Brendan asks us to write to the ghosts, in response to a poem at Real toads. I decided to give a response to William Dunbar’s “Lament for the Makers”

Timor mortis conturbat me= fear of death dismays me

Lament For The Makers

I that in heill wes and gladnes,
Am trublit now with gret seiknes,
And feblit with infermite;
Timor mortis conturbat me.
Our plesance heir is all vane glory,
This fals warld is bot transitory,
The flesche is brukle, the Fend is sle;
Timor mortis conturbat me.
The stait of man dois change and vary,
Now sound, now seik, now blith, now sary,
Now dansand mery, now like to dee;
Timor mortis conturbat me.