Thursday, December 11, 2008

Words at Work: Time

The Passage of TimeThis is another rondel attempt, but I'm not exactly happy with it. The refrain just doesn't flow like it does in my other rondels. It is that repeating phrase that makes the poem, IMHO. Thinking of my mom with this poem. Her time was certainly fleeting, dying at 51. Suggestions anyone?

Time is a fleeting curse to life.
It steals your love and desire.
It knows no mercy, only strife.
With not a one will it conspire.

It will steal both husband and wife.
It devours you entire.
Time is a fleeting curse to life.
It steals your love and desire.

In all your days it will be rife.
It may not take by flood or fire.
It dangles you, puppet on wire
And will cut you hard, like a knife.

Time is a fleeting curse to life.
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