Time

Time, they say, waits for no man,

but time, oh it waits for me.

It stutters and stumbles and stalls all it can,

and then mumbles “by the way, if you’re free,

There’s a matinee showing of the leaves in the park.

They’re lovely ‘round this time I’ve heard.

I thought, if you’d like, we could go, as a lark,

just a walk, nothing more,” I’m assured.

For time is my suitor, my humbling crush,

could I go so far to say my stalker?

He follows me everywhere, making me blush,

Lord, how do I encourage this gawker?

He’s around every corner, eyeballing me so,

his intent is to be more than just friends.

He’d like to entice me to join him and go

away from this work with no end.

“Come join me,” he whispers, “no one will know,

we’ll just take a stroll down there yonder.

And when we return the sun will be low,

and the hours we’ve wasted we’ll ponder.”

“I will NOT!” I say sternly to this craven young tease

who wants nothing more than to lure me

into filling my days with lust, languor and ease,

just so he can claim I’ve been set free.

“You’re a villain!” I protest. “Just leave me alone!”

But time only smiles, leans back and waits

For he’s seen yearning inside me and knows I will moan,

“Oh, you beast, you know I’ll be late.”

When it comes he plays coy, and shrugs with a grin

“Of course it’s entirely your decision.”

“Curse you!” I hiss, as I feel self-control cave in

And hand in hand, give myself to his vision.

By Tim A Hologram

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