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I am the metronome mover of measures wide . . . . . . . . wide . . . . . . . . . . . . swings my pendulum tracing the tempos of time Tick-tock my hands a poco a presto strum staccato the strings of my mind I am the hollow hourglass Trickle my tunes to the tilt of the times The see-sawing sea paces my sands— murmurs ageless songs in major and minor Sharp waves crack my still mirror— capture the startled sun in splintered rays I am the pulse of the wordless deep Somehow constant my cadence Somehow the play of my tides echoes the gravity of the moon – Harley White < 1972 >

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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Date: 9/25/2014 10:33:00 PM
wow, this is really good!! I love this kind of free verse. Deep but not too obscure. and making good use of imagery and alliteration. Well done!
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Harley White
Date: 9/26/2014 6:06:00 AM
Thank you, Andrea, for reading this and for your lovely comment! Actually, the poem was composed with more of a shape than I could show here, which can be seen on a poems page of mine at ... or on the Poems etc. page at