Ditty

Oh, what can I do with this beautiful day,

Now that I am too old to play,

Too old to succumb to the power of dreams,

Knowing this beauty is not what it seems?

What can be made of this deep blue sky,

Now that I am too wise to believe

That any sight delighting the eye

Outranks another that might aggrieve?

How do I silence this music of old,

That resonates still in my spirit and soul,

Only to crash at the wall of my mind,

Knowing that nature is tone-deaf and blind?

Oh, now that I am too old to play,

What shall I do with this beautiful day?