Sunday, March 4, 2012

Lost in Time

Time passes on it's way,
quickly changing day by day,
A newborn child only hours old
will move on to the graven cold.
The happy child still at play,
will pass on to the grave one day.

Time marches on trampling frivolity under it's feet,
Until the day we two shall meet.

Days, minutes, seconds, hours,
holding us within it's powers.

Yet we go slow resisting change,
until at last we will exchange,
words so sweet the bees take notice,
opening like petals of a lotus.
Flowers scenting our every thought,
Now is not the time for aught,
but spending glorious time with you,
feeling my heart beat every note true.

Loving you, feeling you, tasting your mouth,
and following you ever further south.
This passionate longings engulf me so,
I find it hard to think I must go.

On with my life, on with my strife,
It plunges into my heart like a knife.
Yet hurts me more than a blade could ever,
just fearing that our bond could sever,
and split us apart in our seperate lives,
one bud perishing while the other bud thrives,
on sweet low water from another heart.
Oh the taste of regret so bitter and tart.

Wondering what else could have been said,
to keep you with me warm in my bed.

Yet the clock still ticks and with each chime,
you'll soon be lost in the memories of time.
(Written 1/16/2000)

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