Age of Time

Hands move smooth
when face is young
on the hour
chimes are sung
happy songs of play and race
set the world an hourly pace
The metronome shows seconds past
but young face knows, time will last
_

Face feels older
and songs get colder
but hands can't reverse
hours become perverse
And hands still wear away time
so sees effects on beat of chime
hands and arms slow their race
as aging shows on wrinkly face
_

And as the final hour rings
As the bell for the last time sings
the hands strain to contuinue on
but a tick-les tock-less hour dawns
Pushing, Pulling, Toiling, Faulting
And finally for the last time halting.

Wow. That was really good. It didn't really seem to hit me though, as deep. If that was what you were aiming for, well...
I hope you read my work! Bye!

KailaMarie wrote:The metronome shows seconds past
but young face knows time will last

I like this bit, but I do think it may sound less awkward if you added one little word, so it would read instead:
The metronome shows seconds past
but young face knows that time will last.
It just seems to have a better ring to it with that added syllable.

Your poem might also benefit from some punctuation. Aside from structure, it would add a certain emphasis to the rhyme scheme.

Overall I enjoyed the poem. Admittedly it did feel as if there was a strain to maintain the rhyming. It might be fun and also interesting if you rewrote the poem with the same intentions and subject matter, but without a direct rhyme scheme.
Good work! And keep writing

KailaMarie wrote:but hands can't reverse
hours become perverse

This poem is good apart from these two lines. I don't think "perverse" is quite the word you are looking for. Sure it rhymes, but it doesn't fit- if you get that? Like I said, the rest was good but not especially deep.

KailaMarie wrote:Hands move smooth
when face is young
on the hour
chimes are sung
happy songs of play and race
set the world an hourly pace
The metronome shows seconds past
but young face knows, time will last
_

Face feels older
and songs get colder
but hands can't reverse
hours become perverse
And hands still wear away time
so sees effects on beat of chime
hands and arms slow their race
as aging shows on wrinkly face
_

And as the final hour rings
As the bell for the last time sings
the hands strain to contuinue on
but a tick-les tock-less hour dawns
Pushing, Pulling, Toiling, Faulting
And finally for the last time halting.

Hello I'm Vernon and I'll be your reviewer, to begin with, please understand this, rhyming ain't necessary in poem, and in most cases should be generally avoided, as it drags the poem down, and makes it harder for the writer to write it. So, when writing a poem avoid rhyme. Here it could have worked, I'm to say that it could have, but it doesn't, due to the rhyming seeming so forced and truncated.

Hands move smooth
when face is young
on the hour
chimes are sung
happy songs of play and race
set the world an hourly pace
The metronome shows seconds past
but young face knows, time will last

See here, you wanted people to see it was a clock without directly telling them, and I'm pleased to say, you manage exellently to show not tell, what the problem is here, is the rhyme scheme doesn't seem like a clock at all to begin.

Now to continue my next criticism is a Grandfather chime, isn't exactly like a song, it's more like a low bell, counting the hours. And the bit after, it doesn't fit with the overall theme of the poem, it just seems stitched on randomly.

Lastly here, the ending, it seems like the real ending, not end of a stanza, end of whole poem. Though it's unclear, I'd preferred if it was a little subtle and vague.

Face feels older
and songs get colder
but hands can't reverse
hours become perverse
And hands still wear away time
so sees effects on beat of chime
hands and arms slow their race
as aging shows on wrinkly face

Just because you can rhyme doesn't mean you do, a serious poem turns into a nursey rhyme because you stuck this contrived stanza in. it's pointless and doesn't even seem to have a purpose.

And as the final hour rings
As the bell for the last time sings
the hands strain to contuinue on
but a tick-les tock-less hour dawns
Pushing, Pulling, Toiling, Faulting
And finally for the last time halting.

Cut out the second stanza, then end with this. Because this by far is the best verse in the whole thing, really sounds like a clock, and feels like one, but not just that a clock dying. Makes me think of the 'Grandfather Clock Song'.

In conclusion, it was a worthy try, but you need to remember for future poems, 'You don't need to rhyme in poetry.'.

Good luck
VSN

Wow this poem really really made me think.
Some really fabulous imagery, I was pulled right into it.
The title of the poem also draws you to it because it's such a clever subject to put into concept. The age of time. And you've written it really well.

This poem was great. The imagery, everything was well done. It made me run my hands along my face, and contemplate time within itself. I really liked this poem. It is short but impacts the reader. This made me think of getting older, and a slight fear built up in my mind. However, I do wonder, is this poem solely speaking about getting older? or is there another hidden meaning behind it? Overall, I really liked it though. Keep writing