A Lost Event

Curb not the rage when time has fled

Deserting books but to be read

Scorn not the chase a sage expels

To stifle thirsts below school bells

When sophists taunt a mind aglow

Reason inflames the will to know

Good masters contemplate each pleb

Just like a spider shapes a web

To grip the sense of what to tread

And add sincerely to the head

A treasure to forever hold

More precious than a pot of gold

Watch a spider seduce its prey

And titillate the seized array

So be it in a learning scene

When minds are beckoned to convene

To integrate and freely grow

With every tome a prey in tow

Condemn lost hours the passing days

When mentor tasks are but a haze

Imagine still vague moments spent

Enough to mourn a lost event

As passions probe the world anew

Books waylay spangled souls askew