A Tick In A Time
A tick
in a time
Not very well spent
Was all that I had,
And nothing was lent.
No forest of amber
To shade me at noon;
No dreams after midnight
To hang on the moon.
Reason and purpose
Weren't always the same
Till I found my lover,
Till she spoke my name.
Her eyes in their ardor
Bring light to my days.
Her words show me solace
With the turn of a phrase.
Her love is my bearing,
Though her beauty was sent
From a tick in a time
Not very well spent.
