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Poem

Through the silence of the years
Time tiptoes in each small story
Another morning wakes with gentle glory
Too quickly, pass the years, ...it is clear

Around me and everywhere I look
Time slips and slides, so close upon the slopes
With mists upon the distant hills....our hopes
Are dwindled down to one small book

Ticking loudly, as down the ridge I climb
Echoes of the time, casting shadows grey
Narrowed down to waning days
A world of clocks, unwinding time

Uncaring clocks, to hear the sound, can be quite hard
Each minute, one by one, ticks-ticks-ticks my life away
The face of time, indifferent, without care, never strikes a last ballet
But, simply carries on, and will tick on, with no regard

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