Mary Mayer Shapiro

The Cuckoo Clock

The Cuckoo Clock hangs on the wall

Passing the time away

Seconds, minutes, then the hour

The bird flies out on the hour

Coo Coos to alert the period of time

The Cuckoo Clock announces

The hour

It never fails

It acts as master of ceremonies

Declaring the time of day

Between the hour, you can softly hear

The tick tok

See the hands moving

In a clockwise movement

Slowly marking time

On a weekly basis

To keep the Cuckoo Clock running

Adjusting wires and weight

The time is always correct

The ritual is preserved

Gives wake up calls

Time to eat,

Breakfast, lunch ,dinner and time to sleep

No rest for the Cuckoo Clock,

Always tick toking away

As time went by the routine was maintain,

The coo coo words became conditional.

Not hearing the marking of time

The cuckoo Clock went unnoticed, forgotten, not adjusted

Only hanging on the wall

The clock slowed down

The time not exact

The Cuckoo Clock

Signed offering

With the last coo coo.

The Hour Glass

The Hour Glass is half full

Or half empty

Depends

On how you

look at it

It can be filled with silica sand,

Pulverized marble,

Or burnt eggshells

But the time measurement

Never changes

The hour could represent

Sixty minutes’

One hundred years

One thousand

Always measuring time

The structure is consist of two glass bulbs

Exact size each

Vertical in height

Narrow slit

Regulated flow of gains of sand

Each grain of sands of time are label

A word on each one

Hope, faith, peace

Love of man kind

Dropping one by one

Grain of sands slowly flows

Down the narrow slit

Word on each one

Tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, volcano eruptions,

Pollution, nuclear radiation, decay

As the end draws near

The earth wobbles on its Axis

The rotation slows down

Days and nights are longer

Sands of time filter through

From the beginning to the end

Just empty words

Not taken seriously

Meaningless just the same

Promises not kept

As one grain of sand is left

Holding on for dear life

The Axis wobbles

Rotation slows down to a near stop

All the past in the bottom bulb

No promises kept

No differences from beginning to end

Not taken seriously

Meaningless all the same

One grain of sand tries to hang on

From the beginning to the end, From the start to the finish

The Sun is blocked by pollution, the planet is dying

The last grain of sand

Called Hope

Siphons through

The Perfect Person

The last hour of ones life may linger on

As the soul leaves the body

Slowly floating in anticipation

into the unknown

Going towards the light

There is two doors

Before choosing

You answer the question

Do you love the lord?

Not really religious,

You play it safe

You answer yes

You open the door

That says yes

And walk down the wide

Corridor

Again you come to two doors

Do you worship idols?

Saint are not idols, you say no,

And go through the no door

The hall becomes narrower

You come to two more doors

Do you take the lords name in vain?

You choose wisely and say no

You go through the no door

And walk down a narrower hallway

You come to two more doors

Do you keep the Sabbath holy?

You think

But I do it my way

You answer yes

You walk through the yes door

Continue down the hallway

You come to two more doors

Do you honor your mother and father

Well, just like they honor me

You walk through the yes door

You continue down the hallway

And come to two more doors

Question – do you murder

Killing the couple during driving

Under the influence was an accident

You walk through the no door

The path becomes narrower

Next too doors with harder questions

Did I commit adulty

Not married, does not count

Enter the no door

Two more doors, Did you steal

No, just take what is mine

They would not miss it

Enter the no door

Two more doors,

Do you give false witness

I do what I have to do to

protect myself

Walked through the no door

The last two doors,

Do I covert things belong to someone else

This is easy, just take what I want

I deserve it

Entered the no door

It locked behind me

The room was serene

The room was comfortable

Picture window looked out

On waterfalls, gently landing In a pond

Flowers. Trees, mountains valleys

Quiet and peaceful, no one about

This must be heaven, I was all alone

I was here for eternally

Then I heard the noise next door

People laughing, having fun

St. Regis Mountain

Why do I love you, majestic Queen?

The woman on the mountain

Who is centuries old

Maybe hard as rock

The kiss of the sun rays

Warms her body

As she lays there with open arms

Greeting all who comes

Awaits for the trail blazers to climb the mountain high

On a well worn path

Greets all visitors

Lets them rest and take in the peaceful view

Some time served with a gentle breeze

Clouds would pass by

Nearly touching the natural elevation

Like a blanket for security

Looking West you see body of waters

Looking East you see Paul Smith College

With buildings and dorms

Nestle against the landscape

The tower of the structure

That was once housed the old library

Beckons to all

For the annual pilgrimage

The path has a moderate terrain

Slowly walking uphill

Couple of steep spots,

Crossing a brook

The last trek is the hardest

A steep hill

For a short duration

But not that challenging

They come from all over

Sign their names in the book

Before entering

Sign out when leaving

Others come from all over

An annual tradition

A rite for some

Bring children, grandchildren, to continue the ritual legacy

When I was not an octogenarian

I zip through the trail, slower as I aged

The woman still waits for my return

On the well mark course

The ritual hazing

Of Paul Smith College Freshman

Eagerly climb

Without difficulty for the young

The woman on the mountain

Never left

Who is centuries old

Maybe hard as rock

The kiss of the sun rays

Warms her body

As she lays their with open arms

Greeting all who comes