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An Hour, by D.H. Hawn

What is an hour?
For most it's sixty minutes,
Churchill called the Darkest Hour,
the span of 363 days,
while Britain peered cross the channel in a daze.
The Empire facing the Axis alone,
until the Axis tested the Soviet's stone.
Attack divided,
relief provided.
That Darkest Hour would be one worth losing.
As to the contemporaneous loss of an hour,
I'm too busy,
I want it back.

Review Request (Intensity): 
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How was my language use?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I live in area where we lost an hour this weekend due to day-light saving time.
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An hour.....indeed it can mean one thing at one tim a and quite another at other times. An hour watching a good movie might seem just a minute while an hour at the dentist seems a full day. and i also lost that hour last night due to cussed time change. i liked your limited use of rhyme to emphasize parts of your poem.........stan

A short write that depicts what happens to the mind when time means nothing.
A slow motion accident something precious falling. As told about the dentist and the difference betwixt that and love.
Time has no hold over our minds we can play as our mind dictates.
Welcome to Neopoet and I look forward to more of your writes, and being bad, I would have looked back but this is your first lol.
Take care and we are here to assist if needed,
Yours, Sparrow..

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Unconditional love to you all.
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Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

Theory of relativity
Google it
Churchill was PM
he had a LONG one
as an hour

I love playing with concepts of time and enjoyed your poem. You might be interested in "Pip Pip" by Jay Griffiths a feminist theory of time.

My own thoughts on the subject-
Time goes round in a straight line

When you check the time
(notice check also means stop)
with a watch or clock with hands that go round,
now like seconds,
in the now like minutes
or resonating in the now like hours,
like the Earth around itself,
around the sun,
in the near infinite now of the spiralling Galaxy
We are in and out of time and myth,

When you read a digital representation
of this thing we call time,
the number gets bigger each time you look.
Digital time drags us inexorably to our deaths.

I like a sunrise,
a morning birdsong,
a shrinking shadow,
the timelessness of a story

I am forever unwrapping the eternal present.

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