PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the darkening room I sit alone,

While the clock keeps ticking endlessly,

And its steady tick-tock monotone

Beats with even regularity.



Every day the clock shows us that one

Of her hours twelve  will us escort

Like a stern and watchful chaperon

Takes her wayward charges into port.



Clocks know naught of partiality,

Tick-tock, tick-tock  on without detours,

port -bound pressing they accompany

Swiftly  fleeing hours, mine and yours.



Clocks are stable, fixed, aloof and steady,

Evenhanded and indifferent;

Lo! - they never ask if we are ready

Feel upbeat or feel  discouragement..



Without pause the hours tick away,

Even, humdrum, and monotonous,

Ticking ceaselessly by night and day,

Tick-tock hints of transitoriness



Yet some day the clock for us stands still,

Clock hands at a summons point: “retreat!”

In deference to the Almighty’s will

And we are from time and hours freed.



© Elizabeth Dandy