THE CLOCK IS CREEPING

Ever so silently the clock has  been creeping
               so nimbly upon my weeping

and time is of vaporous mental lock all the while
               I listen to the tick and tock

The hours --  they bleed into days
                 and days become my mistress

between the moments of my thoughts i see
           the months are my memories of you

I fear the years that lay before me
    an internal split between the crossroads

of what is and could have beens - so simple
     hindsight - a gift if given in the now

If I could sit upon the lap of father time
             Just this once I would beg him

to roll back the arms of the arrow of time
and today to you I'd say I'm sorry and kiss you

                 --//--