Tick-Tock
By John Herlihy

At first nothing but silence,
Nothing but hush all around.
The night in full compliance,
The breath held no sound.

The clock was then ticking,
With its steady rhythmic beat.
The cat its furry paws licking,
Outside air held night’s heat.

The tick made my ears itch,
As if hearing the voice of a witch.
Then my nose began to twitch,
I lay in bed feeling bewitched.

Its ticking prickled my soft skin,
I could listen to the drop of a pin.
Time passing seemed like next of kin,
Nothing to lose, but with nothing to win.

Then, I thought to myself: Just stop,
That insistent, incessant tick tock.
Bearing down in the passage of my ears,
Beating notes with the passing of years.

Air now heavy with sadness found,
Fleeting time had now slowed down.
Every second in stretch and strain,
Each beat a moment of drumming pain.

The seconds groaned in mournful voice,
This clearly was not the time to rejoice.
All my feelings seemed large and hurt,
The day’s sorrow now on heightened alert.

The tick tock seemed to climb up a tree,
As if wanting to look about, everything to see.
The beats, like my heart, they were a-galloping,
The spirits of the night seemed all-enveloping.

The clock kept ticking as if here to stay,
I never knew the moment I slipped away.
Only sounding pulse beating in the night,
I hear nothing, until I see the day’s light.