Hold, Tyrant Time Poem by C Richard Miles

Hold, tyrant time, no more your gnashing teeth shall gnaw
And gouge great canyons in our dwindling store of hours:
We are resolved to laugh at your predation’s power
And make the most of all the ration of each day.
We sneer with loud contempt as fleeting seconds pass
For though their flood is fast, with waters dark and deep,
We are strong swimmers in the hastening tide of life,
So we shall never sink if we keep up our heads
And never bow in meek submission to the foe.
That enemy, once feared, recoils beneath our might
As we strike out towards the final, sheltered shore
As minutes, days and weeks appear so minuscule
In context of eternity’s approaching span.
And now, as years pass by, in fractions less and less
Compared to youth’s sloth-slow progression of our lives
We smile at our oppressor, scythe-blade in his hand,
With thanks for all the gifts he has endowed to us
And hope for unknown benefits still to be won.