One behind and one ahead.
One in the lead and one is led.
The timid trail after the bold.
A buttercup, their world of gold.
We mortals all chase fool’s gold too.
Around we go. Who’s leading who?
Bright sword sharp or ploughshare blunt.
Each to the rear and each in front.
The sun his daily orbit makes
And never pause or rest he takes.
So, we upon life’s wheel must toil.
To till and plant and reap our soil.
