As time keeps creeping by,
a languid tick and tock,
from the corner of my eye
I keep watch upon the clock.

Why is it that midday,
though frantically sought,
so quickly slips away
as soon as it is caught?

I wish I had the might
to hold the moment still
like a flower balanced right
upon the windowsill.

But, alas, it must give way
to the long, lingering rest of the day.

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