(no subject)
Time drips slowly-
The honeyed beads fall-
Drop by drop by drop.
It’s not like the cascades of sand
Swiftly escaping through eager fingers
It’s not like the age old father-
Ever watching over our growth and progression
It’s more like nectar,
That we harvest eagerly-
Drop by drop by drop.
It stings the tongue-
Before disappearing,
Leaving behind-
Poignant memories
And the desire to taste once more.
The honeyed beads fall-
Drop by drop by drop.
It’s not like the cascades of sand
Swiftly escaping through eager fingers
It’s not like the age old father-
Ever watching over our growth and progression
It’s more like nectar,
That we harvest eagerly-
Drop by drop by drop.
It stings the tongue-
Before disappearing,
Leaving behind-
Poignant memories
And the desire to taste once more.