Saturday, 10 October 2015

Poem of The Week


The creeping of the big finger has the upper hand
As it dictates the sounding of the gong

But time chimes less frequent for the small hand
Filtering the grains of its sand can take so long

God gave us life to smell the flowers and enjoy so many things
Don’t waste a minute, for they are more precious than gold

A minutes good is better than an hours bad
Be happy, not sad  

Don’t ponder in the time you could be striving
Or fate may result in you not arriving  

Soak in the rays, don’t  be blinded by the haze   
If you drift through your days in a daze, only make this a phase

Life may be short, it may be long
But let it be right, don’t let it be wrong

James Larkhill

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