Hourglass

A villanelle

The dreams of children help us carry on.
Though life is not exactly as we plann’d,
We muddle through, brave weathering the storm.

There’s nothing in this world I can’t become!
Olympic champ? Guitarist in the band?
The dreams of children help us carry on.

But now I can’t face stuff that’s not the norm,
And parents wilfully misunderstand.
I muddle through, brave weathering the storm.

A baby of my own, my hopes reborn!
I’ll make their life the very best I can.
The dreams of children help us carry on.

But what about those things I’ve now forgone?
And whence the golden ring once on my hand?
I muddle through, brave weathering the storm.

In looking back life’s meaning is reform’d
As swirling, tumbling grains of hourglass sand.
The dreams of children help us carry on,
and muddle through, brave weathering the storm.

. . .