Hurry

 

How has this clock with two swords

wrapped us around its fingers.

The tick tocks and chiming chords

have cast a spell that lingers.

We hasten as strike the wands

and drift nowhere from somewhere.

What magic lies far beyond

that this hour seems so unfair?

But time heeds to no worries-

Is there a need to hurry?

Jug

 

A jug of whiskey with spice

for the two mischievous old.

Bouts of fire on cubes of ice-

the hazy stories retold.

Sweeter rumbled the mumbles,

and louder the glasses clinked.

Woozily tales just tumbled

as the oldies laughed and blinked.

Giddier turned every verse

till the sun donned new colours.