None of us would stand a chance
If time did have its way,
With the certainty of circumstance
At odds we’d have to stay.
If time was let to run its course,
To stop and start at will,
We’d live our lives in deep remorse
And all would be there still.
If time ignored the pendulum
And tomorrow never came,
We’d have no rules on when to come
And the prompt would have no claim.
. The power of the hour we may hope to regulate,
. But ever is the measure we are left to contemplate.
© Tim Grace, 10 April 2010
To the reader: At best we only ever grow to understand the value of time. If not to be wasted, time’s ultimate currency of conversion must be experience. Spending time to understand time is therefore a worthwhile pursuit … a pursuit we call planning. Through planning we maximize opportunities to work with, rather than against, the tyranny of time.
To the poet: The long/short syllabic rhythm of the first eight paired lines are satisfying. Later in my sonnet writing I buckled under and became more consistent in adhering to the Shakespearian iambic-pentameter. At this stage, I was using my own natural (naive) rhythm that appears to be expressed in a ratio of about 8 to 6 syllables per pair of lines. The last two lines (the final couplet) are very long and contain internal rhymes that might be clever, but do nothing to help the poem end on a rhythmic high.