At the Hour

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Another Poem from my blog site. http://aminutewithmichael.blogspot.com/

In my own time,

at my own pace,

as I see fit,

I will do what I have

to do.

 

It is not on your clock,

it is not at your speed,

my time is not subject

to the fancy of your whim,

nor the wristwatch of your pleasure.

 

The pressure of time,

is like a great stone,

pressing down on the gears

of my clock, slowing under the heaviness,

speeding when the load is lightened.

 

My time slows or speeds up

relative to the activity required

and the pressure being applied.

It a mental question more than

one of speed, although alacrity

plays its part.

 

Molasses in winter or bottled lightening,

sticky glue or slick grease,

movement takes place when my internal

clock strikes the right hour,

between comfort and frustration.

 

Slow or fast,

it all depends,

on what the hickory dickory dock,

is going on with my interior clock,

it’ll get done,

I’ll be there.

 

In my own time,

at my own pace,

as I see fit,

I will do what I have

to do.


Submitted: July 15, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Michael J. Hebel. All rights reserved.

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