To the king I bow!

Sometimes the life seems beautiful,

And time plentiful…

To weave yarns of warmth
Around the winter chill
Time long enough to leisurely kill

And play with the wall clock

The way he demands –

Fastening and slowing the moments,

Twisting the hour, minute and second hands

Or by pulling off my wrist watch

To wrap it fast…

Around his tiny wrist,

And break into that laughter blast!

Mocking at the hollowness

Of all the high-held humour

That human race enthuses

But like a patient tumour

That takes its time to tell its presence

A lifetime to let you know

May be like some promised comet

Or some dormant volcano…

Oh no!

But he seldom knows all that

And only I am supposing

These demons of derisiveness

On a naughty head imposing

His callowness is verily true

But how so much deceptive

Are those tiddly crystal eyes

To hold me always captive

And yes, those are now rolling fast

To catch a glimpse of thought

That goes into that earnest job

Of doctoring the lid on the pot

And seldom should you enter

This workshop on the go

And better pledge your trust

And to the king…you bow

'To quetch, to yearn, to strive,

To hoard, to earn, to hive…'

If nothing else does matter

And life is designed to shatter

Then...

Sometimes, this strife seems meaningful

To rub against the time

To spring at once in running spree

And play him a lullaby chime…