Tick-Tock Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Childhood is a tree of gold
Of fantasy and silver cone
With all its legends to unfold

The toddling self soon fits the mould
For infant skills are quick to hone
And simple steps grow firm and bold

Peers tempt, stairs beckon. Parents scold
Paste idols chant- their fans intone
Their every word, to have, to hold

Parenthood comes. Now life’s patrolled
Rooted to house…the hearthside zone
Watching new destinies unfold

Mid life, the Future’s shrunk and sold
Piecemeal. One plate. You’re home alone
The golden tree's been lopped and polled

Old Age. Shrunk withers. Prospects, cold
Wrecked beauty. Failing flesh and bone
How like a tumbleweed that’s rolled
From meadow sweet to desert stone
Where on thorn trees, life’s rags are blown