As I sit thinking about poetry
I hear the birds calling to me.
I spend far too much time
Pondering on rhyme,
While the sun rises and sets
On my regrets,
So soon lost in the great maelstrom
Of whirling time.
The Maelstrom of Time
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Tag Archives: poems about time
My Dog and the Clock
My dog delights in sunlight.
His tail responds to my hand.
The old clock’s pendulum chops.
He and I can not command
Its inexorable chop, chop.
Yet we can take delight
In this fleeting light.
But my friend knows not
The clock must stop.
Time’s Scythe
February is slipping away.
It is easy to say
I will act tomorrow,
But why not act today?
For each moment I borrow
And Time’s unyielding knife
Ends all joy and strife.
And none can say
When his scythe may fall.
But it must fall
And bring all to dust.
When my Busy Thoughts
When my busy thoughts
For a moment, stop,
I become aware
Of the clock
Ticking away my day.
I may turn away
And write.
But old Time
Will not delay
The night
To accommodate my rhyme.
How Quickly August Slips into September
How quickly August slips into September.
I remember how the Spring
Was full of birdsong
And opening flowers.
In December
I remember
Long spring hours
And birdsong.
The Clock on the Wall
The clock on the wall
Watches us all
As we eat and sleep.
Sometimes the clock’s
Steady tick tock
Is heard over words.
Or, when alone
Sometimes I see
Time’s great scythe
Moving closer to me.
When, and Where
I heard birds
And the clock,
And wondered,
When, and where
My heart
Will stop.
The Key to My Clock
The key to my clock
Is cold to my hand.
I can command
My old clock
To cease it’s chime.
But no rhyme stops
The sickle’s chop.
I Can Try
I can try
To immortalise my clock
In a rhyme.
And, when I stop
My rhyme
May still engage
On fading page,
Though I
Shall know it not.
Work Meeting
As the meeting neared it’s end
My old friend
Who had not
Yet said a word,
(Leastways, I heard
him not),
Interrupted, and did say,
“Tick tock”.
Yet the clock
Is forever ticking away
our day,
Though oft we heed him not.
K Morris - Poet 