Maypole Calling

Maypole Calling

There's a maypole monster calling
from the closet, bed, and window.
Calling us to merry living.
Calling students to the lawn.

Duty's from our schoolbooks whining
for us our passions to withold.
Whining through the teachers warning.
Whining towards our guilty ears.

But, Siren song of spring is stronger
than all of duty's bootless whining.
Stronger still than "you'll succeed."
Stronger both in word and deed.

Filled-up fancy leaves our judgment
for the springtime fresh and green.
Leaving logic for the meantime
Leaving sleep for nighttime fun.

Sleeping we are through our due dates.
Abeyed the maypole through the night.
Sleeping still and full of dreaming.
Sleeping through Aurora's prod.

We obey the maypole's calling
stalling not a clock-tick longer.
Calling that is sweet with future
Calling cannot let us down.

But should our caller kiss and leave us,
with our glasspiece in his pocket,
Leaving us alone and worried
Leaving us with nought but loss,

At least we know we lived our fullest.
And midst that certain, dark, sweet hour
Living leaves and full forsakes us,
Living gained turns nought but loss.