As far back as I can remember, clocks and the passing of time have held a fascination for me. The steady tick tock of a pendulum clock both soothes and hypnotises. As in a dream, I imagine Old Father Time, with his sickle chopping up seconds which, once gone will never return. Ultimately time catches up with us all.
“The sickle chops
And the heart will, one day stop”.
One of the first poems I recollect reading, is Sir Walter Raleigh’s “Even Such is Time”, which runs thus:
“Even such is time, which takes in trust
Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust,
Who in the dark and silent grave
When we have wandered all our ways
Shuts up the story of our days,
And from which earth, and grave…
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