Related quotes: How many seconds in a...

How Many Seconds In A Minute?

How many seconds in a minute?
Sixty, and no more in it.
How many minutes in an hour?
Sixty for sun and shower.
How many hours in a day?
Twenty-four for work and play.
How many days in a week?
Seven both to hear and speak.
How many weeks in a month?
Four, as the swift moon runneth.
How many months in a year?
Twelve the almanack makes clear.
How many years in an age?
One hundred says the sage.
How many ages in time?
No one knows the rhyme.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Related quotes

Frustrating Seconds

These seconds of time that seem so small
really are not that small at all.
They continuously add up to a minute.
Sixty seconds later and all that's within it
is larger as they pass.

And then they add up to an hour.
Now those seconds have more power.
They move along and soon there'll be
another day gone from you with me.

Seconds, minutes, hours and days
have grown so long in heartfelt ways.
They leave me wondering just how long
these drawn out seconds did me wrong?

I'd love to bundle them up real tight
and little by little squeeze them at night.
And when the dawn is here again
remember all of them and say Amen.

I do not wish my life away.
I just want those seconds to go their way.
Let them add up for another fool.
For these seconds for me are much too cruel.

I don't need seconds, minutes or hours
to remind me of eternity.
I will not count the time anymore
for all it contains is the misery
of being away from you.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Chain of love and peace

One moment of love and peace,
Several moments of love and peace, it can make.

Several moments of love and peace,
One minute of love and peace, it can make.

One minute of love and peace,
Several minutes of love and peace, it can make.

Several minutes of love and peace,
One hour of love and peace, it can make.

One hour of love and peace,
Several hours of love and peace, it can make.

Several hours of love and peace,
One day of love and peace, it can make.

One day of love and peace,
Several days of love and peace, it can make.

Several days of love and peace,
One week of love and peace, it can make.

One week of love and peace,
Several weeks of love and peace, it can make.

Several weeks of love and peace,
One month of love and peace, it can make.

One month of love and peace,
Several months of love and peace, it can make.
Several months of love and peace,
One year of love and peace, it can make

One year of love and peace,
Several years of love and peace, it can make

Several years of love and peace,
One life of love and peace, it can make

One life of love and peace,
Several lives of love and peace, it can make

Several lives of love and peace,
One family of love and peace, it can make

One family of love and peace,
Several families of love and peace, it can make

Several families of love and peace,
One village of love and peace, it can make

One village of love and peace,
Several villages of love and peace, it can make

Several villages of love and peace,
One community of love and peace, it can make

One community of love and peace,
Several communities of love and peace, it can make

Several communities of love and peace,
One country of love and peace, it can make

One country of love and peace,
Several countries of love and peace, it can make

Several countries of love and peace,
One world of love and peace, it can make

One world of love and peace,
One eternity of love and peace, it can make

One moment of love and peace,
One eternity of love and peace, it can make

So, why doesn’t it?
Because this is same for hate and war…

poem by Lino Jones
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How Time Feels Without You

Seconds are like days
Minutes are like weeks
Hours are like months
Days are like years
Weeks are like centuries
When I'm away from you

poem by Steve Yeager
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Every 6 Seconds

Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Baby I can't stop
My mind from slipping
Every six seconds or less
Preoccupation of the opposite sex
And you're the one I blame
For making me go crazy
I think of you in different ways
Fourteen thousand times a day

Victoria's Secret I've been keepin'
And its getting harder all the time
I can't keep it undercover
I need your soft lips kissing mine

Every six seconds
My body starts beggin
Your sweet thing is wreckin me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Another cold shower
Until you give me some
(Until you give me some)

I picture you in red matte lipstick
Sponging all over me
Leaving a mark on my fantasy
Or swimming in water wearing nothing but moonlight
Both of us soaking wet (splash)
Half way to the towel is as far as we get

Victoria's Secret I've been keepin'
And its getting harder all the time
I can't keep it undercover
I need your soft lips kissing mine

Every six seconds
My body starts beggin
Your sweet thing is messin me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Another cold shower
Girl you got the power
Until you give me some

Thoughts of you keep swimming through my veins
Baby night and day
And I cannot concentrate on anything
But this urge I have inside
Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Until you give me some
Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Until you give me some

Every six seconds
My body starts beggin
Your sweet thing is wreckin me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Another cold shower
Until you give me some

Every six seconds
My body starts begging
Your sweet thing is wrecking me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Girl you got the power
Until you give me some
Every six seconds

song performed by by O-Town from O-Town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Loneliest Man In The World

Almost sixty, just weeks to go,
Yes, less than twenty days
And only God above to know
Of how the future plays...
As time flies by, the hours fade
Like sunshine clear and bright,
Surrendering, yet unafraid,
Like all to sacred night...

The year has almost run its course,
October greets me now
And with its coldness I close doors,
Conserving heat somehow...
It seems my heart is double-glazed
Just like the window panes,
Such that for grace the Lord is praised,
For benefits and gains...

Almost sixty, just weeks then done,
Outliving Mum and Dad
And even then, their younger son,
The brother I once had...
At home, alone for every day,
No other voice is heard,
At home, alone yet here I pray,
Despite what has occurred...

How long I'll live, the Lord must choose
For He holds centre stage,
Till then I'll preach my points of views
As if within this cage...
This house called home where no wife smiles,
This place where no child laughs,
Is where my heart still reconciles
My choices and my paths...

Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2012.

poem by Denis Martindale
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Children Die: Malnutrition

Think of the children that die each year, each minute, every couple of seconds, and think of how lucky you are. Please, spread the word of this poem, help me educate people about malnutrition's effect! ! !

Lying awake,
A yound child cries,
Her stomach is empty,
She'll probably die,

Could you have guessed,
That every 3.6 seconds,
A person dies,
From malnutrition and hunger,

One out of eight children,
Go to bed hungry each night,
Aged under twelve,
They soon lose the fight,

One-hundred-and-sixty million,
Children, years five and under,
Are malnurished,
And filled with hunger,

Fiften million children,
Die of hunger each year,
Their parents dead,
Or filled with tears,

Many of us worry,
About such trivial things,
Think of those children,
And what their fate is,

Please don't waste food,
And think of how lucky we are,
That we are all fed,
And not dead from malnutrition each year.

poem by Kelly Aragon
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I Am Thinking Of You

Beloved,
I am thinking of you..

Like always..
The seconds mingling into minutes,
Hours, days, weeks and mighty years.
And in my thoughts
I wonder,
If you too someplace,
Are thinking of me
The seconds mingling into minutes,
Hours, days, weeks and mighty years.

Do you too,
Get up parched..
In the middle of the night,
Missing me..
Catch the moon by the window sill,
And solace in the thought,
That someplace I might also be there..
Parched..
Catching the moon by the window sill?
Might be….

Do you too,
Sometimes,
Look at the empty place near you
And wish,
If only my love was there!
And catching a sigh of acrid air
Smile at the thought,
That someplace I too am breathing
The same air?
Might be….

Do you too,
Follow the tick tock of the time piece
and wonder whether I am getting dressed,
working..
or getting ready for a walk.
or am plain brooding..
waiting for your eyes, your touch,
your voice, your laugh, your love?
Might be…..

Might be you do the the things I do…
Might be you have your separate way…
Might be you are totally different…
Might be you may not at all think of me…
Yet, all I can do is think more of you..
cause...
For you it's the whole world out there..
For me, my whole world is here..
With you….in you…

Beloved,
I am thinking of you..
Like always..

poem by Anjali Kakati
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We only work four days a week, we only work three weeks out of the month, and we get four months off for the summer. So there's plenty of time for me to spend with the kids.

quote by Patricia Heaton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Six Seconds

Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Baby I can't stop
My mind from slipping
Every Six seconds or less
Preoccupation with the opposite sex
And you're the one I blame
For making me go missing
I think of you in different ways
Fourteen thousand times a day
Victoria's Secret I've been keeping
And its getting harder all the time
I can't keep it undercover
I need your soft lips kissing mine
Chorus:
Every six seconds
My body start begging
Your sweet thing is wreckin' me
Untill you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Another cold shower
Until you give me some (until you give me some)
I picture you
In red Mac lipstick
Smudgin' all over me
Leavin' a mark on my fantasy
Or swimming in water
Wearing nothing but moonlight
Both of us soaking wet
Splash
Halfway to the towel
That's as far as we get
Victoria's Secret I've been keeping
And its getting harder all the time
I can keep it undercover
I need your soft lips kissing mine
Chorus
Every six seconds
My body start begging
Your sweet thing is wrecking me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
another cold shower
Until you give me some
Every six seconds
My body start begging
Your sweet thing is messing me
Until you give me some
Ten times a minute
Six hundred times an hour
Girl, you've got the power
Until you give me some
Thoughts of you keeps swimming through my brain
Baby night and day and I
Cannot concentrate on anything
but this urge I have inside
Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Until you give me some
Every six seconds
Every six seconds
Until you give me some
Chorus 2x
Every six seconds

song performed by by O-town
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Betwixt The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

I'm betwixt the Devil and the deep blue sea,
Cause no one wants to employ me.
Why did I choose my chosen career?
Forty years ago, I was sincere.

Interested in figures I then was,
Numerical ones ~ of course.
Accounting I chose in aspects all,
Now it has become my downfall.

At Sixty-two chances are slim,
Of finding more work ~ what a pickle I'm in.
With Accounting Software geared for all,
For Bookkeeping Work ~ there is a shortfall.

Two hours work I had this week,
A new living I must seek,
Two hours will not keep the wolves from the door,
I'll cry in my boots, for an encore.

A hundred letters I've sent this week.
Perhaps one will give me what I seek,
If it'll not work ~ what will I do?
I know ~ I'll write another poem for you.

poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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With You There To Help Me

In days of peace --
Sweet smelling summer nights
Of wine and song;
Dusty pavements burning feet.
Why am I crying, I want to know.
How can I smile and make it right?
For sixty days and eighty nights
And not give in and lose the fight.
Im going back to the ones that I know,
With whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
And with you there to help me
Then it probably will.
I wont go down
Acting the same old play.
Give sixty days for just one night.
Dont think Id make it: but then I might.
Im going back to the ones that I know,
With whom I can be what I want to be.
Just one week for the feeling to go --
And with you there to help me
Then it probably will.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song Of Sixty-Five

Brave Thackeray has trolled of days when he was twenty-one,
And bounded up five flights of stairs, a gallant garreteer;
And yet again in mellow vein when youth was gaily run,
Has dipped his nose in Gascon wine, and told of Forty Year.
But if I worthy were to sing a richer, rarer time,
I'd tune my pipes before the fire and merrily I'd strive
To praise that age when prose again has given way to rhyme,
The Indian Summer days of life when I'll be Sixty-five;

For then my work will all be done, my voyaging be past,
And I'll have earned the right to rest where folding hills are green;
So in some glassy anchorage I'll make my cable fast, --
Oh, let the seas show all their teeth, I'll sit and smile serene.
The storm may bellow round the roof, I'll bide beside the fire,
And many a scene of sail and trail within the flame I'll see;
For I'll have worn away the spur of passion and desire. . . .
Oh yes, when I am Sixty-five, what peace will come to me.

I'll take my breakfast in my bed, I'll rise at half-past ten,
When all the world is nicely groomed and full of golden song;
I'll smoke a bit and joke a bit, and read the news, and then
I'll potter round my peach-trees till I hear the luncheon gong.
And after that I think I'll doze an hour, well, maybe two,
And then I'll show some kindred soul how well my roses thrive;
I'll do the things I never yet have found the time to do. . . .
Oh, won't I be the busy man when I am Sixty-five.

I'll revel in my library; I'll read De Morgan's books;
I'll grow so garrulous I fear you'll write me down a bore;
I'll watch the ways of ants and bees in quiet sunny nooks,
I'll understand Creation as I never did before.
When gossips round the tea-cups talk I'll listen to it all;
On smiling days some kindly friend will take me for a drive:
I'll own a shaggy collie dog that dashes to my call:
I'll celebrate my second youth when I am Sixty-five.

Ah, though I've twenty years to go, I see myself quite plain,
A wrinkling, twinkling, rosy-cheeked, benevolent old chap;
I think I'll wear a tartan shawl and lean upon a cane.
I hope that I'll have silver hair beneath a velvet cap.
I see my little grandchildren a-romping round my knee;
So gay the scene, I almost wish 'twould hasten to arrive.
Let others sing of Youth and Spring, still will it seem to me
The golden time's the olden time, some time round Sixty-five.

poem by Robert William Service
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2 Weeks

14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone

poem by Marcellus Watts
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Twenty-four Seven

(j.b. rudd/vip vipperman)
Ive got this craving around the clock
And its got a hold on me
Ive had it bad since the moment we met
I cant get no relief
Youre the only train of thought on my one track mind
Going ninety miles an hour baby all the time
Twenty-four, seven
Youre the only thing that matters to me
Twenty-four hours girl, every day
Seven long days a week
Im in heaven, heaven
Twenty-four, seven
Every night when I go to sleep
In my dreams there you are
Youre the first thing I think about
And thats how the morning starts
It seems like everything I say and do
Is all about me being in love with you
Twenty-four, seven
Youre the only thing that matters to me
Twenty-four hours girl, every day
Seven long days a week
Im in heaven, heaven
Twenty-four, seven
Youre the only train of thought on my one track mind
Going ninety miles an hour baby all the time
Twenty-four, seven
Youre the only thing that matters to me
Twenty-four hours girl, every day
Seven long days a week
Im in heaven, heaven
Twenty-four, seven
Im in heaven
Twenty-four, seven
Twenty-four hours girl, every day
Seven long days a week
Im in heaven, heaven
Twenty-four seven
Twenty-four seven girl

song performed by by Trace Adkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The sad times

The sad times come to stay
There never far away
Seconds and minutes away
Hours and days away

Weeks and months away
Years and tears away
It is just a sad time away
From being sad all day

It comes as sad as it could
Anytime, anywhere, anyhow
Giving me a new identity
It is sad in all colours

Sad times to me reminds
Of happy times filled by smiles
Of love in the afterlife
Of happiness in sadness

Today I think Ill be sad
Tomorrow Is sure to be just as bad
I wonder when I will be again glad
Its not worth worrying or Im sure to go
...mad...

poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Tea For One

(page/plant)
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days?
Oh twenty-four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
Sittin, lookin at the clock, time moves so slow
Ive been watchin for the hands to move
Until I just cant look no more
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seems to slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
To sing a song for you, I recall you used to say
Oh baby this ones for we two, which in the end is you anyway
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
There was a time that I stood tall, in the eyes of other men
But by my own choice I left you woman, and now I cant get back again
How come twenty-four hours, sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
A minute seems like a lifetime
When I feel this way...i feel this way

song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.

quote by Emily Carr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Unresolved New Year

At the hour of twelve on New Years Eve
When the old year turns into the new
Thoughts turn to what the future holds
And what goals we should pursue.

At the hour of nine on New Years Day
Or some time thereabouts
We wake with great reluctance and
Those resolutions start to doubt.

At the hour of ten on New Years Day
When we start to feel our age
By then we've written lists of things
That will benefit through change.

At the hour of twelve on New Years Day
When things start getting clear
We find we've hid that list away
To return to in one year.

poem by David Keig
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My time has been passed viciously and agreeably at thirty-one so few years months days hours or minutes remain that 'Carpe Diem' is not enough. I have been obliged to crop even the seconds-for who can trust to tomorrow

quote by Byron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Part 2 ~ Times Tables

The little girl felt sick at her stomach. She fought back the urge to vomit and cry as she lay in bed wondering where her mother was. The fear of what lay beneath her bed was not as urgent as the more immediate fear that her mother might not come back this time. Her younger brother was in the next room sleeping. He didn't seem too upset by the fact that their mother had disappeared two weeks earlier. He might have been worried but he wouldn't let it show, and they never talked about it. They both knew that their family was different. The word dysfunctional had not yet been coined to describe what life was like in the Taylor's home. How do you describe hell? All she knew was that they were the family all the neighbors on the quiet cul-de-sac whispered about, and that whenever she would go over to a friends house to play their parents would look at her with softness in their eyes. Her best friend Erin told her that everyone on their street could hear the fighting.

One times six is six, two times six is twelve, three times six is eighteen, four times six is twenty four…

The last time she had seen her mother she was screaming gibberish at the top of her lungs. She was spitting out words with so much force that they were unintelligible, the whites of her eyes making her look like a wild animal. The little girl didn't know why her mother was so angry at her dad, but she had gotten use to it being a common everyday occurrence. She had torn the telephone out the wall for the umpteenth time and was throwing dishes at him. When she ran out of dishes she reached into the freezer, pulled out the ice cube tray and began pelting him with ice cubes. All HE was doing was ducking behind the kitchen table, trying to reason with her to no avail. She commonly worked herself up into a lather over the most insignificant things while her father remained calm. If he had better judgment he would have put her into an institution where she belonged, but all he would do was wait patiently for the unpredictable storms to pass, hoping that he could somehow repair the damage. She never understood why.

Five times six is thirty, six times six is thirty six, seven times six is forty two, eight times six is forty eight…

When her mother slammed the front door behind her, the little girl went over her father to console him. One of the ice cubes had hit him on the head and it was bleeding. She wrapped her arms around his huge frame with tenderness. 'Daddy', it's alright. I love you.' she began to say when suddenly the loud sound of crashing metal and glass drew her attention outside. She went to the living room window and could see her mother screeching backwards out of the driveway in her car, then putting it in drive again to ram full throttle into the rear of his car for a second time. Then a third. What was she doing? That was a new car. One that she had insisted on having like a spoiled child. It wasn't even a week old and she had just demolished it, but somehow she was still able to drive off to wherever it was she was going.

Nine times six is fifty four, ten times six is sixty, eleven time six is sixty six, twelve times six is seventy two…

Alone in the stillness of her bedroom she began to wonder if maybe her mother had given herself an accidental concussion and was wandering around somewhere confused. Her father had gone out looking for her again tonight, asking Erin's mother to come over until he returned. It was getting late, but the little girl kept repeating her multiplication ritual, trying not to think about anything else. If she made a mistake she had to start over again from the beginning. It had to be perfect. She had gotten all the way up to her 10 tables now.

One hundred times one is one hundred, one hundred times two is two hundred, one hundred times three is three hundred…

In her minds eye, the sums began to take on a new shape. They turned into days, and then weeks, and then months until she became aware of the prospect that her mother might not back at all. She stopped multiplying and drifted off into the most deep and restful sleep that she had ever had.

poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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