Poem for her 7

Dear Readers,


It is a long night again, so I am up thinking and playing a game, sleep is out there somewhere, but she is doing it and I am awake to protect her while she sleeps far from home/me/us/our togetherness. But I have planted seeds that grow.



The Left hand of the clock.

Most clocks have 1 to 3 hands, but some have even more.
Yes there is a clock with only 1 hand, see the ads only hours.
I planted a seed of a clock hand.
It is the Left hand of the Clock.
It holds her now.
It is always there with her, ticking along with her
Where ever she goes, tocking and not tickling,
Or not ticking and only talking with it's fingers.
Going up one side of her face or arm or just telling time.
Never a minute goes by without it there.
Always there, never gone, always at home with her.
She is just now rolling over and remembering in a dream,
Some thing I said to her once.
The Left hand of the clock checks the air to see,
If any moonlight is there, or if the sunshine is up.
The Left hand of the Clock always there,
Holding her close to me.


Happy Birthday baby,

Charles.