You need not ask of others where the time goes,

Or seek to find the answers elsewhere;

Time lies sleeping in the cradle of your eyes,

Or silvering the contours of your hair.

It nestles in the softness of your body,

Whispers softly round the memories in your mind;

If you look close, you’ll see that time has never left you,

But it can be so very hard to find

Some people speak of how time has betrayed them,

Swapped age for youth when their backs were turned;

Or caught up with them, forced them to abandon

Dreams and hopes that they grew tired of, and spurned.

They speak of time itself as of an enemy;

Some dreaded, apocalyptic foe,

Yet time gave all, though sometimes none too fairly.

Time can be deceiving, this we know.

So search no more for time, for it lies waiting

In endless patience, like a mist upon the skin.

Until we can bear no more of its burden;

Then the clock stops, and endless time begins.


S. P Oldham.

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