Grandfather clock insidious master
chimes, tocks and peals, gongs interrupt laughter,
shatters the peace every quarter hour
with the same measly melody, wersh, sour.
Creating art, music or poetry,
thinking long thoughts sitting quite peacefully
when this grandiose costly old box squawks
strident, I leave its domain, take long walks.
Relieved of the clamor, airwaves disport.
A red sun blows kisses. How I cavort
outside of time's lines under the sky clock
dangling feet in bright colors off the dock.
Inspired by Insidious, Measly and the Stream of Saturday Consciousness prompt "the last photo you took" (take a look at the last photo you took, what's the first word that comes to mind? My sunset photo prompted "Time". )
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