The Golden Clock



THURSDAY TALES

http://talesthursday.blogspot.com/2011/06/tale-66.html

supplied the illustration

(Mine is not a Tale, I'm afraid; just a whimsy)

THE GOLDEN CLOCK

(A Sonnet)

Would that I had a golden clock embued with magic powers,

A clock that sang its counting-song with clear-as-crystal chimes.

Would that my clock marked only my many carefree hours

And stood quite mute when there were sad or disappointing times.

My clock would then remind me of the hours when I was glad,

I'd stand, stock-still, and drink them in, so happily aware.

Whereas those other hours I lived, the dreary and the sad,

Would pass, unnoticed, and, indeed, would really not be there.

With sorry hours extinguished, all my days would be prolonged,

And, looking back, I'd smile to think my life had been a gem.

The sad times would be banished to the place where they belonged;

Grim pockets of forgetfulness would be the place for them.

Would that I had a golden clock embued with magic powers;

A clock that took happy minutes and remembered them as hours.

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THE AUDIENCE

Amateur night at the local hall!

As they say 'Tonight's the night!'

On the audience the dark will fall,

While guitarists bask in light.

There's Mother there and Auntie Grace,

So they know they're among their friends.

And what applause will rock the place

When the concert finally ends!

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