Blushing, the bud lilts in the gentle breeze
Hiding eager petals from the sun’s kiss,
It is a rose of beauty Time foresees,
Yet soon a flower earth will reminisce.
Time. Intangible, priceless, passing. gone.
The Present slips to Past a breath later,
Future an elusive shadow whereon
Potential is withheld and hopes teeter.
Whilst the petals unfurl, each near their end
Time floats on, mocking our man made minutes,
Silently reaping who fail to transcend
His unsurpassable game. Life limits.

The petals will wither as the cogs rust,
At the final chime they fall to dust