(68) May 2, 2010: Under The Midnight Sun

UNDER THE MIDNIGHT SUN

There really isn't that much more to do;
   This planet earth of ours,
   A dot among the stars,
Is just the aftermath of nothing new.

There's food and drink in endless sweet supply;
   A spoon of caviar
   By candlelit guitar,
Or keep-it-simple moonlit apple pie.

There's passage you can buy to anywhere,
   From here to NYC,
   So fleet of foot and free,
Until the globe's been played like solitarie.

There's money to be made in suitcase lots
   To spend on fancy goods
   And upscale neighborhoods
All tied up tight in ribbon glitter knots.

There's power to wield and posts of enviable fame;
   A corner penthouse view
   Defines just who is who,
And everything comes down to place and name.

There comes a time when everything's been done;
   The bucket list's complete,
   What's left is just repeat
The same old loopy loops under the midnght sun.

D. Edgar Lamp

www.TheDailyPoem.org
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