Tag Archives: Time

Time the great healer is coming for us all.

Give it time

and it will get here.

One minute born,

another minute gone.

Hopefully those two minutes are far between.

A life lived is a life indeed.

As you get older

you start to think upon

what you could have done,

perhaps we should be thinking

about what we can still do

in the time left to us.

The Sand in my Hand

The sand in my hand

runs out like the days in my life;

and every handful

seems to flow faster

than my ability to count them.


Every day,

when seen under a microscope,

is like the snowflakes,

differing and soon gone.

Noon has come (and gone) revisited

So, it’s now that time of day

the morning it has gone

and what we did or didn’t do

Is over – we move on.

After Noon is here,

we still have things to do;

just need to get things started –

or perhaps another brew?

Is it Saturday already?

Is it Saturday already?



did that that happen?

One minute it was Friday,

the next, Saturday!


I suppose that’s how time works,

even though it is a created device,

and twenty-four time zones

(If not more, or less)

go through the process

of ‘Clocking Over’

as I like to call it.


What ever will they think of next?


And who are


Wondering lonely as a cloud

I was wondering lonely

as a cloud approached me

and asked me the rhyme.

“It’s about four.” I answered.

The cloud departed happily,

having ascertained the time.




NB ‘Wonky Words’ my latest (and best) Collection of my words is available from this link. G:)

A song of age

It’s been a month now,

and I never saw the change;

but, when years have passed,

and as I near my last,

looking back just seems so strange.

Still fifteen in my head,

but my body disagrees,

time has not been kind,

I still have mind,

but there are tremors in my knees.


Older every day,

more late November

than early May,

and the years speed up

as I slow down,

there is a ticking clock

whose alarm is set,

and, yet, I try not to frown…

swimming with too many negative emotions,

you are more likely to drown.

My Grandfather’s Clock

My grandfather’s clock

is two inches too tall

to fit in my house

up against the wall.


I raised the ceiling

and lowered the floor,

took the hinges off

the dining-room door;


puffed and panted

to get it in

and then decided,

it made such a din


that I never wound the key,

so there it stands now stranded

at a quarter to three.

“It’s About Time!”

SD They meet

“Well, it’s about time.”

“What is?”

“This book on the subject of ‘Time’. “

“Oh!” Is it any good?”

“I got it second-hand.”


“I swapped it for my watch.”


“It helps to pass the…”


“Yes. And, it’s also about time-travel.”

“Sounds interesting – can I borrow it after you’ve read it?”

“Yes. I’ll pop it round to you last Thursday.”

“Okay. Can you write next week’s lottery numbers inside the back cover for me?”

“All of them?”

“Probably. 1 through to 47 should about cover it.”

“Will do.”

“Great! Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”



“Until last Thursday!”

“Yup! See you then!”

SD They part.

Sunday Haiku

“Is it Sunday? Yes?

How? Where has the weekend gone?

Is it Monday, yet?”

When Monday Follows Sunday

When the days do that,

all is just as it should be,

and time is at peace.