Countless Hours Poem by Seán O Muiríosa

Countless Hours

Rating: 4.5

I’ve worked there for three years,
Three months, five days,
The countless hours.

Today I helped train in
The local boy, my replacement.
Whose job it’ll be to greet the faces,
Know the places, running
His own course of countless hours.

Chatting with old Donie,
The farming man from Rathlogan,
Scrubbing the dirt from the old worn mats,
Arranging the bottles
In order for countless hours.

Walking home in sunlight’s haze,
An amber glow, and then in utter blackness
Always watching the fields,
Trees, children at play, at ease – anything.
I had countless hours.

But I’ve stumbled you see – realised
Before me is a calendar. Marked.
Now this chunk of life it owns me,
Faces, spaces and traces –
A mind of countless hours.

To the new boy, I say:
Take your calendar, there.
Place it where you see it daily, yet
Ignore it. Work smoothly,
Stack orderly, enjoy always your countless hours.

I’ve worked here for three years,
Three months, five days,
Those countless hours.

April 29th 2006

Amanda Lukas 08 May 2006

Someone once told me that changes are sometimes a sign of growth, but sometimes quite the opposite. I hope for nothing but growth for you and I believe I'm seeing it in your poetry. Great work.

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Ivy Christou 01 May 2006

Sean your work has improved so much.. this was fantastic, countless hours which should be cherish before life slips away. well done! HBH

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Goldy Locks 30 April 2006

I adored the wistful flow and the desperate tone that is left suspended between the verses. I will delight in reading more i am sure. peace & love

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Ernestine Northover 29 April 2006

What an interesting poem Sean, I enjoyed reading it very much, nice to see such an unusual one. It stood out in my mind. Love Ernestine XXX

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