Parable from France

Villeloungue-dels-monts

The moon lathers light upon the shade,

It was a full one, beautifully made

Setting the scene, one would say,

Let me share my adventure, I hope you stay

The Queen is dead, but please don’t fret,

Life is precious, that you can’t forget,

Every one has a timer, one we can’t see,

Make sure you value every second, it’s not free.

Grande bière, crisp and light,

It touches my lips, it’s time to start the night,

Youth is a concept that isn’t objective,

Time the only constant, be more protective.

That constant is certainly a bugger,

But don’t let unfortunate events be your mugger,

Don’t let them drown you, as time heals all,

That is certain, as this constant never stalls.

Time doesn’t wait for anyone and so doesn’t your youth,

You make the definitions, well it’s your fruit

You choose when its ripe, you choose when to grow,

Youth never dies, youth is your soul.

Youth is your energy, youth is your smile,

Youth is your pleasure, it never dies,

Youth isn’t age, youth isn’t young,

Youth is the energy that flows from your lungs.

Death isn’t the end, there is a certain fruit,

That can be passed down, and eagerly shared,

It’s what my mother lovingly prepared,

Her fruit, the fruit of youth,

which I will carry for the rest of my life.

All my friends, deep bonds we share,

I’m planning on never letting them tear,

I’ll carry your fruit even when you pass,

It might be stories, jokes or even laughs,

The fruit of youth will never die.