Eternity is dull.
That's something to mull,
and I would pursue it
if I had time to do it.
Yellow leaves flash the window,
a fringe on the green,
too early for the tourists,
the peaks still serene,
been aching to escape from
telephones and cubicles,
only noise is my own thoughts
so meandering and dull.
Just the wind as it’s blowing
my hair all around,
the wild turkeys scatter
at the engine sound,
people say that I wander,
they all say I’m wasting gas,
sitting there watching football
to make the afternoons pass.
But the air and the silence
brings peace to my mind,
or maybe I just glimpse it
stolen piece of time.
I know the trees don’t feel so,
know that they don’t feel a thing,
just illusions on the thoughts
of a tired and caged thing.
Got no task that needs doing,
no weight on the nerves,
no social obligations,
just time well-deserved,
some say that it is aimless,
so I guess they know the truth,
but so then is their worry,
and I do not need them too.
All the echoes and the empty,
the bucolic scene,
just speaks to the point of it,
it just lets me be.
No reason I justify,
nothing I must account for,
existence for its own sake,
if just a few hours more…
Time is like the flow of water; it flows, it moves, it creates and loves with its flow.
Time is the movement of all things; it has no end, it moves at its pace, like a runner it has its pace.
Sometimes time move slow, than fast, it seems to control its speed and can go fast than slow.
Time controls a lot, it allows us time to miss or be in a spot, like an arrow moving in space; it has the ability to control the outcome.
Time we have to pray, to love, to forgive, are all gifts from God on our way through this life.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
I must wonder at such blasphemy.' That
Such a situation could even be.? A man
Named 'yeshua ben david' is fete'd and
The kensset seems to be elated, by a
Name they normaly revile.' Many claim
him mosshiah.? In these crazy whiles..'
He could well be the coming high priest.
Though' i have written of such.' Along with
The overpowering beast, a false prophet
Against whom i daily strive, to hear of his
Onset, is now really wild 'a forboding almost
Grasps at my loins.' Yet should i not be estatic ? Alive with joy ? Yes of course..For Jesus's will overturn this false
Thing, and all will learn, who is really
King and
Whom is not.' And yet many souls will be forever lost.' And so i mourn, and ask all
Please, call upon Jesus, He will answer your plea's do not delay, for times; time is
Near, turn from old dross, and to Jesus
Draw near, for no cost.)
… only fools rush in
on the blue-green planet where we spin.
Believers say, there’s a grand plan
guiding the destiny of woman and man.
In a philosopher’s evaluation,
it is called predestination.
Scientists say both time and space
compose the contour of our place.
We are free to traverse
the temporal in the universe
through memories on space-time fabric’s seams
and the future threads of dreams.
So, everywhere and always, I say,
I want to marry you today -
when I saw you ‘neath the schoolyard’s skies,
and again, in our grandson’s eyes.
timepieces
instant
minute by minute
exact
precision
increments
elementary
clockwork
exactness
second by second
I have no control.
I’m helpless.
I’m lesser.
I’m stuck.
Am I then or now?
I got stuck in the sensible plan of looking after my foot.
The physical pain would have been better.
Is life but an illusion,
While walking on the earth?
Is the path we walk a garden
imagined from one's birth?
Alive, busy and breathing,
With so much work to do...
Soon passing to eternity,
Vapors vanquished in the
Sunrise,
Passed away like morning dew.
.................................................................................................................................................................................
“Here!” “Come see my plane fly; my train choo choo!!”
“Look at that funny cow mommy, ‘moo, moo’!”
“Faster, daddy, faster!” “Again, yes, wee!!!”
“One more story mommy, p,p,p,please!”
“I’m going out.” - “Where?” Mum asks. - ”Hmmpphhh… Just out!”
“Where’s my shoes? Why isn’t this washed?”, I shout.
“Board games night, really?" "I have friends y’know…”
“My life is over… he dumped me”, I groan.
“Oh, woe is me, my life is half over!”
I expected a house, kids, ring, rover…
the dream job; not dole and redundancy!!!
“I’ve a bunch of cats now living with me!”
“Phew!” “Two moments on the sofa, free from…
them!!” “Yes, the kids rule the roost, all day long!”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Though, I could do with some more time away.”
“A new lease of life!” “Barely past forty!”
The golf, wine, cheese… “Grandkids, go be naughty!”
“What a time it is, hey, to be alive!”
“Old, ha!” “I’ve learnt to just live and let jive!”
09.27.2026
(For the Five Perspectives Contest - each stanza representing different ages: 5, 15, 30, 50, 70.)
Love is the building of moments; making each one unique.
Love I am here, like the feeling of air; unseen but near.
Love you pulled me into your arms, now I feel you with just a thought in my mind.
Love you are like the rain, you wash away the old and make me feel new and refreshed.
Love you are like the sunrise, you make the day feel alive, you fill me with your warmth and love with just your smile.
Love you are like butter on my toast, you make me feel sweet and crisp and delightful each morning.
Love you are like a brisk walk, you make me feel like moving and getting all my thoughts on track.
Love you today and always, my love.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
At five, whole world a wondrous gleam,
A bottomless, bright, benign dream,
Each step a secret, shine so bright,
Moments like fleeting sunbeams’ light.
Fifteen years, a smooth shifting tide,
Where fervent feelings faintly hide,
A quest for self, a whispered plea
Of who I am eternally.
Thirty now, the path quite defined,
With purpose clear and heart entwined,
A steady stride, a settled grace,
Carving own dreams in time and space.
At fifty, wisdom starts to bloom,
Dispelling shadows, chasing gloom,
Reflecting past sweet or sour years,
In the span of time, without fears.
At seventy, some desired rest,
Where peace and quietness are blessed,
A life well lived, a journey's end
On loved ones, memories, depend.
Is it possible to grow out of it?
Is it possible
To be big enough for favourite meals
And snack trips?
The taste never changes,
No, In fact it grows sweeter…
Is it possible
To be serious enough
To not chuckle at jokes
Which were silly yet hilarious
With nothing but
The sound of laughter to compete?
Is it possible
To be bold enough
To forget the eyes
That held yours when
All your worries came spilling out
No matter how shy you were
When you met them the first time?
Is it possible
To forget
The coffee meets
That turned into lunches
And walks —
Into all aspects of life
Despite being in a time crunch,
Waving it off like it was no big deal?
Is it possible
To grow out of
The very feeling you called home
Which were mostly hearts
Of the wonderful people
You had known once
But lost a little
Every passing day?
Is it possible to grow out of (that) yourself
Without the agony of losing
The never lost?
I Once Was….
I once was young
Fresh out of school
The future lay at my feet
And everything was cool.
My face was void of wrinkles
My body flexible and strong
There was nothing I couldn't do
And my dreams inspired my song.
I never thought of aging
Of growing old
Forced to give up activities
Because my limits were sold.
I looked at older people
And felt a sense of relief
I had years to enjoy my life
Was my misconceptive belief.
Day after day
Year after year
I took life for granted
And lived without fear.
One day I woke up
And I looked in the mirror
I saw time had dwindled down
And my age was suddenly clear.
I was no longer young
With years stretched before
me
My body stiff like the tin man
My bladder the size of a pea.
My memory has faltered
Simple things playing hide and seek
And I faced the fact
That time had sprung a leak.
I once was young
And ready to take on the world
But time somehow got away from me
Like a newspaper age curled.
The dust has settled.
The wall is down.
I stand in the ruins
of my old town.
But every stone
Is a brand new start.
It's time to rebuild
With a heavy heart.
I lift the bricks.
I leave the night.
I'm building upward
Into the light.
The road is long
The wind is cold.
I will not change
As I grow old.
I turn my face.
I take the stride
No looking back
At what has died.
A brand new day.
A steady pace
I find my strength
In this new space.
The shadows fade.
The horizon clears
I stand above
My oldest fears.
It's time to rise
The dark is done.
I step into
The golden sun.
Making time to go back in Time,
Will get back what was thought lost for all Time.
Time after time,
When I have listened to my inner voice,
My guardian Angel,
Who works over time,
And I have gone back in Time,
To retrieve items
when others said I was wasting my Time,
That the item was lost for all Time.
Only two days ago,
My Guardian Angel alerted me in Time,
To retrieve my wallet before I lost it for all Time,
So back in time I did go,
To the bus stop Seat,
To find my wallet on that very seat,
Something others thought an impossible feat.
I do hope you have taken the time,
To go over very line,
I have written down for all Time
So you next Time,
You think an item lost for all Time,
You will remember in Time,
My poem on making the Time,
To go back in time,
To avoid standing in line,
To report your crime,,
Of failing to go back in time.
Time Categories
Read wonderful time poetry on the following sub-topics:
change, christmas, death, harvest, passing, precious, rhyme, running out, war
and more.
Definition | What is Time in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
point, generation, past, second, turn, space, life, season, moment, date, day, present, stage, term, age, pace, while, future, era, occasion, tide, go, duration, lifetime, stint