My new book, Smorgasbord 3 The Final Platter begins with this poem. I posted it on here a little while ago, but I decided to bring it back as a sneak preview of what’s to come. Enjoy!
TimeemiT
The ticking of the clock,
plays a trance-like melody,
in my mind;
a beautiful symphony.
An orchestra in tune,
perpetuating the mood,
of energetic-never ending high;
though a portrait of time,
tells us it’s noon.
Anxious thoughts and reality loom,
Oh how beautiful,
that circle filled with numerals;
yet-it ticks and ticks until our funerals.
Those hands!
Time can be harsh,
though we forget,
in the memories of emotional marsh,
the clock is ticking.
Time is running out.