Colin F. Jones

WHAT IS LEFT UNDONE

What is left undone pursues the doing;
Nothing left undone leaves doing dead.
Some things are there to delight the viewing,
Or to kill pursuit of it instead.
What do we gain when we pick the flower?
It grows and dies where it blooms
Or Brings satisfaction for a single hour,
Decorating dull and dingy rooms.
What of those things we left undone,
Trapped in the time we did not use
A postponed game we might have won,
Feet measured up for unmade shoes.
To dwell on what we might have done,
Designs a theme song for the blues.