Dear LPG readers, 

While on the bus one day not so long ago, unlike all the youngsters who spend every spare moment doing something essential on their mobile phones, I indulged in a much older pastime called ‘people watching’. This is a skill where, while trying not to be noticed, you study the subtle expressions on the faces of the people around you and guess what is happening in their minds as they travel. 

I noticed one young man for whom it was abundantly clear that the bus was not travelling fast enough. Sometimes no amount of small-screen involvement can hide that giveaway air of inpatients.  

I know the feeling because it is one I have experienced on many an occasion, although my days of willing the mode of transport to go a bit quicker would have been mixed with faking engrossment in one of the tabloids. I have always been one of those people who could have left a bit earlier for whatever activity I was on the way to.

Now that I have retired, I have nearly forgotten what those days were like, but the strained but hidden expression on the young traveller’s face kept flashing into my mind and reminding me of one of the real advantages of being a pensioner.

It has been a few years since I was part of the daily commute, but I still remember what it was like to be mentally spurring on a train or bus so that I could be a little closer to ‘on time, and the encounter spurred me on to translate those feelings of tardiness to the poetry page…

 BEAT THE CLOCK

Beat the clock, go on get moving!  Beat the clock, you mustn’t be late; you can’t be late!  Beat the clock, beat the clock; no time to waste, not even a minute much less an hour.  Beat the clock, beat the clock; no time to eat or drink; just rush, rush, rush!  I mustn’t be late again; that would be a big mistake and God knows how much I need my job: but I also need some time to rest....  It’s clear that nobody really understands exactly where I am coming from.  I must get going.  I am in a mad rush.  Can’t you see that I’m in a hurry?

Beat the clock, rush, rush, rush!  All I can hear in my head is tick, tock; tick, tock; tick tock; tick, tock.  Whatever happens I must not be late...  Dear Lord, will it ever stop?   I am completely worn out.  I am so tired of always trying to beat the clock!  Perhaps I need to take time out and practice some relaxation, instead of forever trying to ‘BEAT THE CLOCK’! 

Tick, tock; tick, tock; tick tock; tick, tock!

Oh, I wish I could find a quiet place

where I don’t have to listen to the sound of the clock….

tick, tock; tick, tock!!

©2018 by Beverly Gooden Wilson