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A sonnet of unremembered living
Written whilst looking out to sea at Aldeburgh
Is memory all we have in human worth?
Our earthly days are short and soon forgot.
If blessed, we’re whole and free and loved from birth
Whilst knowing, too, the pains in human lot.
We sing and dance our lives in toil and play,
Forgetting cares we share a common path,
With others we find joy and hope each day
And lose ourselves: become another’s half.
Yet time extends beyond each mortal life
And, if forgot, what meaning can remain?
All gain seems loss when struck by reaper’s knife,
The human realm erased by death’s domain.
Creator’s call beyond the endless tracts
Brings home redeemer’s triumph over facts!
© Neil Thompson 2026