None of us (me nor you) would stand a chance
if time (that fiend of fiends) did have his way.
He'd trade our certainty for circumstance
and then (as put on pause) he'd have us stay.
.
If time-lapsed motion was to set the course
in lock-step keeping with the watchman's will
we'd live our stop-start lives in looped remorse;
at 'once upon a time' we'd be there still.
.
If time was just a swinging pendulum
that would return before tomorrow came
we'd greet today as all there is to come
and once again look forward to the same.
.
. The power of the hour we may hope to regulate,
. but ever is the measure we are left to contemplate.
.
© Tim Grace, 10 April 2010 (Revised: 23 May 2021)
About the Creator
Tim Grace
A first impression has a lasting effect - it makes a notable difference. In a subtle way that’s who I am as a poet. A ‘first impression’ looking for the gentle ‘twist’ that draws attention to a novel observation.
Tea set by a suffragette
Pankhurst is a name well known to the history of women’s suffrage. Who hasn't heard the name Emmaline Pankhurst, founder of the Women's Social and Political Union (WSPU), an all-women organisation campaigning for the right to vote? The group that helped to achieve the right to vote for women in Great Britain and Ireland in 1918. Some know of her daughter Christabel, both being honoured by the Pankhurst memorial in Victoria Palace Gardens, London, right next to the UK Parliament buildings. Sylvia Pankhurst is notably not included in the monument. Why? Because she split with the WSPU to campaign against Britain's entry into First World War.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 days ago in Art
Comments (1)
To the reader: At best we only ever grow to understand the value of time. If not to be wasted, time's ultimate currency of conversion must be experience. Spending time to understand time is therefore a worthwhile pursuit ... a pursuit we call planning. Through planning we maximize opportunities to work with, rather than against, the tyranny of time. To the poet: The long/short syllabic rhythm of the first eight paired lines are satisfying. Later in my sonnet writing I buckled under and became more consistent in adhering to the Shakespearian iambic-pentameter. At this stage, I was using my own natural (naive) rhythm that appears to be expressed in a ratio of about 8 to 6 syllables per pair of lines. The last two lines (the final couplet) are very long and contain internal rhymes that might be clever, but do nothing to help the poem end on a rhythmic high.