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Spilling Sands
Time echoes aloft,
The hourglass spills,
silver grains falling soft.
Moments slide into the past,
Minutes now forever lost.
The clock ticks,
a heartbeat on the wall.
Gears turn without end,
Hands move forward,
never pausing,
never looking back.
Minutes slip through brass fingers.
Hours drift like whispers in the wind.
Rust creeps in,
but the gears still turn.
Time hums its endless song.
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
23 January 2025
Spilling Sand © 23 January 2025, Malcolm Gladwin
The hourglass spills,
silver grains falling soft.
Moments slide into the past,
Minutes now forever lost.
The clock ticks,
a heartbeat on the wall.
Gears turn without end,
Hands move forward,
never pausing,
never looking back.
Minutes slip through brass fingers.
Hours drift like whispers in the wind.
Rust creeps in,
but the gears still turn.
Time hums its endless song.
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
23 January 2025
Spilling Sand © 23 January 2025, Malcolm Gladwin
Published 23rd Jan 2025
Author's Note
Copyright Malcolm Gladwin
23 January 2025
Spilling Sands
23 January 2025
Spilling Sands
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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