The Gift

G.R.Dixon

This Christmas we received the gift of time,

Marked by tick and tock and pleasant chime.

Gently placed above the fireplace,

Our new clock’s round and Roman-numeraled face

Counts the seconds smartly marching by.

Feebly struggle some against the sweep

Of the hands that hours and minutes keep,

Vainly seeking privileged place to hide

From the rushing, all-embracing tide

Washing over all within its reach.

Smart the pupil who, with practiced ear,

Does the message in the ringing hear...

Does the lesson of the ticking learn,

Told repeatedly each earthly turn,

Lesson that the friendly clock would teach:

As each day begins, so must it end.

Seize the hour before it’s lost my friend.

Hearken to the tolling of my bell.

Drink the wine of life, savor it well.

Lift your glass, for soon it will be dry.