Clocked – dVerse Open Link Week 120

Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Open Link – why not take a look at everyone else’s wonderful responses?

This is about wanting time to move quickly, and not making the most of now.

*****

– Clocked –

One month before, or
Two weeks until, and
I’ll feel better when this, or
That has happened.

I cross off the days, or
Count down the minutes, and
Wish for the seconds, or
Hours to sweep by.

This unpleasant event, or
That hard conversation, and
I can’t wait for them to pass, or
Do I know what I want?

Because now I am older, or
Wiser than before, and
Know that time is fleeting, or
Finally realise –

That I cannot control time.

Stop All the Clocks – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below.  Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

Copyright - A Mixed Bag

Copyright – A Mixed Bag

– Stop All the Clocks –

Eric wondered whether the clock’s stopping had taken place in broad daylight, or whether the hands had ceased their relentless turning in the London night, unremarked by human eyes.

His day swallowed him whole, the passing thoughts faded into the background. Two weeks later, on his first day back to work from his annual summer holiday, the ever-still hands locked at just before twenty to three caught his eye straight away. He reached his office, shut the door and picked up the phone.

“Yes, hello. Your clock doesn’t seem to be working. Did you know about it?”

Eric liked order, above all things. On putting the receiver back in its cradle, he felt satisfied at having alerted the management to the problem.

On his way home, he opened the Evening Standard, settling down to read. At the bottom of page 7, a news item caught his eye and his satisfaction disappeared, replaced by a strange empty feeling.

“Hotel clock winder dies on duty”

Still, at least he had helped them find the poor old man.

Reflections – dVerse Form for All: Ballads

– Reflections –

Mists hang low in valleys soft
The sun suspended, brings the dawn
Creatures stir, send sighs aloft
Fields jewel-encrusted, sparkle

Nature’s joys in sharp relief
To inner turmoil, loss and pain
My heart it trembles, not with grief
But contentment, long-awaited

I see the beauty through Dad’s eyes
His artist’s gift, perception
My heart it lifts, my own sunrise
His smile in mine reflected.

*****

This is in honour of my dad, who we lost this summer too soon for Autumn’s mists.  He championed Nature in his work, and his art.

Thank you, dVerse for the inspiration. Enjoy many, many more ballads here.