You watch it haste and watch it fly,
Why try espy it flashing by?
Now you see it, now you don't,
Then you heard it ~ now you won't.
First, it's here and then it's gone,
Much the same for everyone.
Like a cloud high in the air
Glance once more and it's not there.
Like a bubble drifting past,
Though you know it cannot last.
A tranquil breeze, the bubble stops ~
Attempt to touch! the bubble pops.
Where it stems from no one knows;
No one sees to where it goes.
You know it's there but you can't find...
As not a trace it leaves behind.
But man can't beat this mighty force,
To try and try he'll fail, of course;
He'll never grasp the wheres and whys
Quam tempus fugit ~ how time flies!
TEMPUS FUGIT
I seemed to be going through a change,
Maybe the male menopause.
Or perhaps a mid-life crisis,
But I had fun whatever the cause.
I purchased a Harley Davidson
To roar about the place
And I rescued my flares from the wardrobe
That I’d held on to, just in case
With a cowboy shirt and a shoe-lace tie,
I reckoned I looked pretty cool.
But my wife said they weren’t back in fashion
And I simply looked an old fool
I dug out my vinyl collection,
Mostly Bill Hayley and Elvis,
And tried to relive the days of my youth
On the dance floor, rotating my pelvis.
But, last week, I fell off the Harley,
Performing a series of dares
And it caused great amusement in A & E
When the nurse had to cut off my flares.
So now it’s out of my system,
I’ve reverted to acting my age.
As I sit with my pipe and slippers,
Dressed head-to-toe in beige
Elvis has gone back in the loft
And I have to say he’s not missed.
For now, for relaxation,
I listen to Mozart and Liszt.
5th February 2022
Latin Lessons poetry contest
Sponsor - Margarita Lillico
Someday we'll all see the sky and not rebuke the rain
The sun will shine the morning dew will glimmer
But not one there to baske upon it's day
The trees will shed leaves with it's seeds as it breeds
And mountains will fuel causeways turned into Oceans
The depth of the canyons so rich and eroded
Hold secrets forever unbroken
A long lost past with no use for an ending
In the blink of an eye neither point for a story
The beautiful silence with nothing to share
And noone to receive love as a token
While in my youth
I racked my brain
to fill up Time
Taken aback
By Time’s fast pace
Once in my prime
Dismissive still
that Time ticks on
indeed clockwise
Not feeling yet
that treasured Time
so fleeting flies
Of trite excuse
« for lack of Time »
I had no fears
Time’s metronome
hounds hastily
in golden years
Wisdom whispers
that Time is up
beyond a doubt
Implacably
relentlessly
Time’s running out
My train of thought
of Time that strikes
its closing chime -
A wistful wish
that I could buy
a tick more Time
April 24, 2021
Contest: T contest Time
Sponsor: Constance La France
another day is almost done
scented bubbles - an anticipation
warm water calls her by her name:
a relaxing "mom time" accommodation
with exhalation, hands gently grasping
a book binding worn to smooth
eyes lusting for a deep escape
each written word meant to soothe
her heart covertly coveting,
for a short time, an empty abode
her favorite novel only just begun
short self-care arrangement is bestowed
time ticks its fast advancement
bathwater wrinkles, besetting
children caterwauling with woes of needs
each knock - a sound on nerves - upsetting
husband now calling through the door
she's pleading for a moments peace:
"One more page," she responds to all
hoping for the complaints to cease
Does anyone else have the feeling
That life is escaping too fast
That passing of time leaves you reeling
As present reverts to the past?
A blink, and the baby is crawling
Then walking to school on his own
Too soon university's calling
And full independence is sown.
For time cannot stall in its travels
And yes, we should treasure what's gone,
But shape as each new day unravels
Fresh memories that will live on.
11.11.20
( My son turns 30 this month!)
Time, that old imposter, who kids you its on your side,
in your early years embrace it, with both arms open wide
for soon its perfidious nature will steal your youth away,
minute by minute, hour by hour, day by insidious day.
The signs are not apparent, the symptoms surreptitious.
Your hair falls out, you get the gout and all against your wishes.
Each day you wake you start to ache in another new place or two,
The doctor sees more of you naked than your wife ever used to do.
Days flash by then months and years at an exponential rate
stop the world, I want to get off, before its all too late.
I sat by the television today. Bored out of my mind I must say. I appreciate that I have senior status not as if it really matters. But when the television announcer place me as and old person. How time flies. I was just appreciating being a senior. Oh well tempus fugit.
Time flies they say
If so, may wings
each day soar high
May not regret
as sunset falls
beget dismay
Each new sunrise
With fresh eyes seize
And prize the day.
31.01.19
'Any Theme Than Bauk Poetry Contest'
Sponsored by Charles Messina
Tempus Fugit L
(Time Flies)
Written: by Tom Wright
4/15/2018
When faced with a project that I’m eschewing,
The time seems prolonged and I speculate why.
But undertaking assignments that I enjoy doing,
Time escapes, and figuratively speaking, does fly.
Time keeps marching on and on! Oh, Time! Time! Where hast thou gone?
Tempus Fugit.
Memories are imprinted,
through moments,
and fleeting minutes,
as,
they fade like polaroid stills,
dimmed by the flight of time,
caught between,
the banal and the sublime.
Years trickle by,
stubbornly trudging ahead,
straining to embrace echoes of nostalgia,
yearning to hold them near,
seeking new memories,
carved by the trail of a lonesome tear.
Tomorrow may not arrive,
as it lies at the mercy,
of time's fickle flight,
and as it slips under the blanket of night,
it flees into the arms,
of a hope, warm and bright.
The flight of time sounds its warning bell,
with smug assurance it beckons all,
to hear the tale it has to tell,
knowing someone must heed its call.
Time flies, and rapidly too,
teasing us with promises of days yet to be born,
and so we linger, wasting slices of precious time,
as we walk on,
numb and in an anaesthetised trance,
devoid of all passion,
and,
ever weary to take the plunge,
or to hazard a chance.
I have slipped into the darkest of mindsets,
and it is only now that i see the light.
I have seen the bright nights and dark days,
and they are no different from one another nor my soul.
Who knew the abyss was like a spotlight....
The devil-may-care attitude I so humbly embraced,
has become more devil and less 'may care' as time flies into oblivion
with naught care for feeling or form.
Feeling and form loses hope in a act of defiance and despair,
we all cry for the pigs that do as time does, but they hear us not.
We watch the skies with eyes of fear and conformity,
we watch, we wait, with bated breath and cold hearts.
The pigs never come,
we are forced by time to find the swine in all of us.
We understand evils that are not meant for us,
we weep not for holy hogs but for ourselves.
This is the darkness.
We understand joys not meant for us,
we weep not for ourselves but for the world.
This is the light.
Time stops for us and teaches us its greatest lesson,
I fly over the horizon to greet the pigs....
TEMPUS FUGIT
In a short life why must men be grave? We must all be grave men shortly.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in David Williams’s Chiasmus Competition
They say time flies when you're having fun,
That merely minutes pass between each rising of the Sun.
That quicker than you blink, the sands have all but run,
That faster than you think, the deal is dead and done.
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