Passing Time Poems

It is five o'clock somewhere
And the porch is still there
There are cocktails, and the a swing that still sways
With the wind and the whispers
We will...

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Forgive me, childhood, sweet mirage of lost time,
When I ran through fields with dreams tied to the blue sky,
There was a time when I believed...

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In a sea of time, seeking happiness like a mirage dancing on the horizon,
people confess their desire like a secret, like a confession in the...

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The days drift softly, like leaves on a stream,
Fading whispers in a fleeting dream.
Sunrise paints the sky in hues of gold,
As time’s gentle hand unfolds...

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Crazy how past
days weighs
heavily on each
raindrop passing
by, as a train
token in the abyss,
it sinks deeper
subconsciously,
i reminisce,

careful thoughts
glide over ice,
paradise is not
enough to suffice
the wreckage
that ensued...

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.
.
.
.
They heard the movement every morning,

No one knew what it was.

So, it was called 'a shadow'.

It sounded like someone passing by,
But the sounds that were...

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Clock Humming 
Clocks hands moving slowly 
In no hurry 
With no worries 
Content and humming 
Clocks chiming 
Time wondering 
With no company 
Some people are...

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The clock, a relentless heartbeat,
ticks forward,
each beat a thief,
stealing moments,
once vibrant,
now fading hues
in the attic of my mind.

Sunlight through a dusty windowpane,
illuminates a forgotten photograph.
A...

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Today, I woke with a smile
aches and pains aside
seems it has been a while
But ever-changing is the tide.

Age doesn't take a vacation
too busy to be...

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Kyrielle Sonnet


They search, phones held tightly, spellbound
moments parting in the background
phone screens, maybe the newest pill
Time won’t stand still, is this God’s will?

They’re seeking this...

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Every day lost, like whispers in the breeze,  
Mom watches the clock, her heart begging, "Please."  
Once, laughter echoed through sun-dappled trees, ...

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The scent of rain on hot asphalt,
unearths a ghost of childhood summers,
barefoot and reckless.

A melody drifts from a passing car,
a forgotten soundtrack to teenage dreams,
suddenly...

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Life, in its cruelest joke, gives us only enough time to discover ourselves,
we toil through the years of uncertainty, forging identities like soul blacksmiths,
sharpening our...

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He said he’d watched a tutorial.
He said symmetry was a myth
fueled by Big Geometry.

I laughed. That was my first mistake.

My second was passing him the...

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The passing of an age.
We turn the final page and close the book.
We’ve cleared the stage and turn for just another look.

The dream has disappeared.
It’s...

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