Close

THE HAND OF TIME

As I sat in the Accident and Emergency department of the Belfast City Hospital a very old woman slumped in a wheelchair was slowly pushed past me. Her left hand hung down displaying two beautiful rings.

 

THE HAND OF TIME

 

Grey ravaged head within the chair

A wrinkled withered hand on show;

Sparkling facet of stone just there,

From times of loving long ago.

 

When beauty’s radiance proudly reigned,

Like the bloom so full of nectar,

Before the human frame was pained;

Time for such is no respecter.

 

Once that claw like hand was young,

Not as the glittering diamond stone;

From an earthly core long flung,

In betrothal’s ring to stand alone.

 

Token of endearment in life’s morn,

From one departed on before;

Passion’s gesture trials of time to scorn;

Sun setting on life’s closing door.

 

Monty Alexander 14.9.05

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *