I never ceased to be amazed at how quickly my life is flashing past and the older I get it just seems to go quicker.
I know I am not alone with this thought and this led me to ask the question why. I think this poem goes part of the way in answering this eternal question and maybe asks a couple more.

Time

I woke up this morning,
My feet hadn't even touched the floor,
But I got this scary feeling,
When I realised it was Friday once more.
 
The futurists of the Fifties,
Predicted this would be a life of leisure,
Cos we would have saved so much time,
That all would be left was for pleasure.
 
I used to have time on my hands,
How come that time has gone so fast ?
The silence of the years becomes deafening when,
You can't hear the weeks marching past.
 
I'm working so darn hard,
And I never seem to get a rest,
Despite all the time saving devices,
We've bought as we've feathered the nest.
 
And I guess that is the quandary,
We've got all these wonderful devices,
But we haven't a minute to spare,
And seem to manage from crisis to crisis !
 
Now there are so many examples,
That I could possibly recite,
But the elusive quest for entertainment,
May shed an explanatory light.
 
You see, before my Grandpa's time,
You didn't have to pay for the sound,
Of even a silent movie,
Because the silver screen wasn't around.
 
But Dad, in his courting days,
Went to the cinema most every night,
But someone had to pay the cameraman,
And overtime was a God given right.
 
And now we get a video,
Sometimes two or three per day,
We haven't the time to go out,
And surely it's cheaper this way ?
 
But it takes time to go to the shop,
And soon the videos will be "on line",
It will probably cost a little more,
But somehow we'll work the time.
 
And this is the question I'd like to pose;
If to save time it simply costs more bread,
And that bread simply costs more time,
Shouldn't we just spend our time more simply, instead ?

Copyright Allen Jesson :) 2000

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