My clock chimes
On a spring day.
Women and wine
Are mine,
But my springtime
Has passed
And the fast
Tick tock
Of antique clocks
Appeals not
To girls in heels
Who do not
Feel their clock
Soon must stop.
-
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K Morris - Poet 
)))
Thanks, Beth. I’m glad you like my poem.
Sadly, all our clocks eventually wind down, Kevin.
Indeed they do, Vivienne. Thanks for commenting.