clocks tick faster now but quietly

shadows lapse longer in mirrors

the days quicken, nights are deep

sleep slips these aged stale bones

heart’s rhythm lagging to a waltz

blood ambles colder, feet to frost

mind disappoints, adrift in refrain

if not for vanity, there’d be a cane

bustle’s departed, hurry’s no more

there’s no game, absent the score

it amazes how quickly hairs grow

worry means naught, not anymore

but close window and door opens

an inner peace radiates from core

comfort in knowing one day soon

joining those of beauty from afore


Copyright © 2016 Ron Shaw



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2 Responses to Wisdom

  1. Insightful, elegant and plain bloody beautiful. Careful Mr Whale, you may be in danger of becoming a great American poet!😘

    • ronshaw says:

      Carole, you are too kind. Thank you so much, my very good friend. For me at least, poetry is the one vehicle in writing that transports you from point A to destination B while discarding excess baggage along the way.
      I’m delighted and overwhelmed that you like my poems. Your sweet comments add fuel to my pen.

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