“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label timepiece. Show all posts
Showing posts with label timepiece. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Bells & Whistles
Ah, a gift for thee
a token of my love
a bit of magic by mans making
Look and see
the face
the hands
the delicate machinery
Of the precious dial that
is alive
it beats
its face reads with guile
Please, carry it with you
always keep it
close at heart, handy
it wants to feel your pulse too
A handcuff? No!
a shackle-perhaps
for some its a ticker, a fuse
Coded lines that sign in analog tho
watch its powers,
you'll see, this little clicking gift, a tricky token
from me, will count unto eternity
all the ways and each of the hours
of my love
making time
trying to be
when it was
is all
we needed
(and a piece of time for thee).
Image By Seriykotik (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Avow
Truth be told- The clean secrets are the ones most easily over-looked, like tiny happy pills, like big gulps of fermentation like bottled p...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
I have served between eight and twenty-five thousand meals for my family, I make coffee for them more than once per day, equatin...
-
Lies About Love by D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) We are all liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, wherea...