Blossoms

My old clock runs down

To the iron age it tells

O world attire and wonder,

Blossoms of gifted bells.

The ivy quad carillon,

Showers beauty on youth.

Too soon new horizons,

Will weigh tiny earth,

Taking hard iron time.

Wrinkles know.

O worlds attire and wonders,

Blossoms the bells bestow,

Long memories fade and fall,

Do not forget them all.