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~~~A Matter of Time~~~ Dying is always a matter of time, seconds to minutes with a tick of tock, each hour is punctuated by a chime. At least a beggar lives without a dime, so maybe he sleeps on a bed of rocks. Dying is always a matter of time. Some are saved by God's grace, so to be kind. On goes a man's life by the ticking clock, each hour is punctuated by a chime. Death can come by night of day, born of crime. Dark shadows close on him as if to mock. Dying is always a matter of time. Swords to slay dragons, death seasons like thyme. Death crescendos, musical sounds of Bach, each hour is punctuated by a chime. Life is sweet like honey and sour of lime. Death to life, explained mysteries unlocked. Dying is always a matter of time, each hour is punctuated by a chime. French Villanelle The author of this poem is Bedford W. Sipes! Copyrighted June 16, 2005
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