Tick, Tock

Tick tock, dick dock,
Goes the arms of the father clock.
Over, under, and back again,
Only to return to begin again.
Stiff clicks ticking,
Not quite ready for the picking.
Time and endless circle,
The sands of the hourglass fickle
Drifting endlessly, impossibly downward,
Only to fly endlessly, impossibly upward.
Never stopping, always returning,
Always and sometimes giving us to learning.
With faults, of obstacles, going round and round,
Losing things that once was found.
Time a failing battle,
Unable to dismantle.
So ticks the hand of time,
Forever in it´s prime.

Written By Alicia Pickard
January 12, 2004

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