“Time will always show you who
and what really matters.” ~ Unknown
I love clocks and timepieces
Pocket watches, Grandfather Clocks,
Melody In Motion musical wall clocks
All keep time
Constant reminders
That we have no time to kill today
Each day I’m getting older
Time waits for no one
Especially me
I never seem to find enough time
So I sit and listen
Letting the ticking calm me
Like the dripping of a faucet
In a pan of water left in a sink
There is a loneliness in time
A reminder that time is always passing
That time is an illusion
Past, Present and Future all exist together
Maybe it’s time for killing time
Maybe it’s time for things to get better
We hope that it will
But it doesn’t
So I sit and listen
The clocks are ticking
The faucet is dripping
And I am existing~
The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2019 All Rights Reserved
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you Chuck!
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What a Super poem, Walt!!! I so love poems on time – a masterpiece, My Friend! Bellissimo!!
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So I guess you liked it? lol
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I love the way you ended this. There are always those days when we are just existing, but it is still better than the alternative.
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Thank you Leigha. I agree. 🙂💛
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You’re welcome.
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😊
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Another marvelous poem, Walt.
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Thank you so much Robbie 🙂⏱⏲⏰🕰⏳⌛️
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Time is ever flowing river.
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Like the ebb and flow of our lives 🙂
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Exactly.
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🙂
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Clicking over to the surreal
where clocks are dripping
and the faucets are flying
as time is standing still 😎
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Listen to the rhythm of the dripping clocks as the flying faucets tell time what a fool it’s been 😀⏰
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No linear time is where it wasn’t at 🧭✔️
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The Tennessee Poet contemplates David’s comment, then pronounces David as the winner, since he has no idea what it means, lol? I wasn’t where I was, but where it was wasn’t. I think.
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Thanks Walt for bestowing such an honour 🙏
Better the right place, but the wrong time,
than vice versa. Then you just have to be
prepared to wait for the right time to tick
along. That’s the space where mindfulness
takes place 😎
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With a bit of patience thrown in. ⏳
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This poem so resonated with my senses. It’s a long story, but it involves a father and a son who used to repair antique clocks. It’s a sign. I need to finish the essay. Tyvm.
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Thank you for sharing that with me, and thank you for your support. When you finish the essay I would love to read it. 🙂❤️🕰
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Tick along Walt. Time passes, but we still get to fill the space between each second.
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Yes we do Frank. Our poetry shows how we fill that space my friend. 🙂
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Indeed, my dear.
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But of course 🙂
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