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Time was
Once
The past
Mostly memories
Some sad
Bad
Some sweet and treasured
Time then
Was
The present
Day by day
To be relished
Hours sweet and treasured
Time now
Is
The future
No memories
No actions
Simply hopes
Sweet and treasured
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14 comments:
I like the use of form in this, like much of Mimi's work it's deceptively simple but with a truthfulness which gives it great dignity. And it has a lovely timeless feel - no pun intended :)
really interesting perspectives, a stark poem but a broad vista, redoubtable Mimi, very nice
Ah, Mimi, sweet and treasured Mimi.
When I was a child, I was obsessed by sundials and such. My favourite author was Edward Eager with his stories of time. And I loved the thyme gardens in Oxfordshire. It's kind of you all to enjoy something that took a very long time to write.
I hope File sees his hand in this.
oh dear, smeared with my jammy pawprints, still, the poems managed to clean itself up nicely, on time in thyme eh Mimi?
On time, in thyme. Time is a conceit and a cheat. Thyme is a wonderful addition to roast lamb. We'd do well to exchange some time for thyme and do a bit more enjoying.
OK, obviously time for a thyme song. Resisting the temptation to link to a couple of Irish geezers in white suits singing The Bunch of Thyme, here instead is a video shot on Arran and a sofa, with a really nice version of The Wild Mountain Thyme.
We keep up traditions here on OS...
Zeph: those links don't work for me, but I'm sure they're lovely.
Yes, damn, I just tried them and they're broken... took ages to download as well, maybe there's a problem on youtube... talk amongst yourself while I check it out...
Trying again, here's the good one: Mountain Thyme.
And while you do, I'll just Jarvis Cocker - it's what I do in down time!
Och aye, Zeph, cheerrrs forr that. You got me old dewy eyed therrre.
And we'll all go togetherrr...
Lovely, Zeph. Thank you. And the landscape in this is just like it is round here.
ah mimi
setting sail with time
and setting off again
and again
tacking into it
running down with it
becalmed
in a shaft of moonlight
dreaming of having the spinnaker full out
knowing for certain the wind will shift again
in time
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