I am often told
That time
Is merely an illusion.
Yet rhyme
Has beginning and end.
And time
My ever present friend
Will stop
This ageing clock
In the end.
The Illusion of Time
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Tag Archives: time
Cuckoo
My unbalanced clock
Will still tick tock.
The pendulum swings.
But no Cuckoo sings
And the clock’s
Music has stopped.
Old Father Time Got Stuck in a Rhyme
Old father time
Got caught in a rhyme
And couldn’t get away.
He knew not
What to say or do
As his hands
Got stuck with glue.
In the End
I desire to retire
To a house with old clocks.
There my poor words
Would be inspired by birds
And the clock’s slow tick tock.
I would forget my regret
And get lost in fine rhyme.
Women and wine
Would distract my mind
From passing time.
Young women’s heels click.
Old clocks tick.
But all must stop
In the end,
However much we pretend
They do not.
As I Try to Write
As I try to write
The tick tock
Of the clock
Measures my day and night.
At other times
Lost in rhymes
I hear it not.
The beat of women’s feet
Has measured my pleasure
And pain. But the clock mocks
Us all. We fall
In love and lust,
And time turns all to dust.
Blossom in the Rain
How soon the scent
Of blossom is spent
In the rain.
These little flowers
No not hours,
While I pass by
In unending rain.
On a Cold Autumn Day
On a cold autumn day
I find that time
Has stopped. But my clock
May be wound today.
Yet, one day
I will not
Know the day or time.
A House of Stopped Clocks
A house of stopped clocks .
Where, when,
He attempts to wind them,
Wise men
Say, “why not try
Some new batteries today …!”.
Floral Clock
A clock without hands
Encircled by flowers
Holds command
Over poets and flowers.
We know not
The hour
But our clock
Will stop.
(The above poem was inspired by the floral clock in the Walled Garden of Woolton Woods, https://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/6911662).
Endings
Soon November
Will become December
And January
Will follow on.
How soon
Another year
Is gone!
K Morris - Poet 