The Tick, Ticking Timepiece
The burial is over and the mourners leave,
and the departed one is left with the dead;
soon, squirrels come for flowers to retrieve,
without a care roses they destroy and shred.
Death is a guest that comes unbidden !
It is cruel and comes like a thief
it takes, it hurts ...
It does not matter for the departed is still,
deep in the earth resting in eternal peace;
heart, soul and spirit in a forevermore chill.
all earthly worries and woes now ever gone.
What use is their ticking ticking timepiece ?
Tick tock, click, tick, tick, tick
seconds, hours, days, years ...
What use are those eyeglasses on their face ?
A chipmunk is curious and comes to visit,
but of this departed soul there is no trace.
Will those weeping mourners ever revisit ?
What use is their ticking, ticking timepiece ?
Tick tock, click, tick, tick, tick
seconds, hours, days, years ...
Over the years the rain and snow falls,
and colored leaves cover the grave in hues;
from the trees can be heard bird calls,
and the faded engraved stone holds no clues.
Death is a guest that comes unbidden !
It is cruel and comes like a thief
it takes, it hurts ...
______________________
May 1, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/The Tick, Ticking Timepiece
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1351-929-01
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Open Poetry 4
sponsor, Charlotte Puddifoot, Judged 05/12/2021
Submitted to the Premier contest, "Say It Again"
sponsor, William Kekaula, 05/15/2021
Seventh Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2021
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