Time, Thou Art A Heartless Bitch

Time, that cruel mistress, slows the movement of her hands around the clock face. The passage of the sands through her hourglass takes on a painful pace. Once steadily trickling, now it floats, stretching out the hours. Mistress Time gloats, and glories in her teasing powers. I feel stuck like a butterfly pinned, as the minutes flow around me. My heart quickens within as sluggish seconds surround me. But I can be patient, now, with the tricks Time plays; all that stands between my love and I is a matter of days. I know soon that great Lady's face will soften and smile. Then, nothing will divide us, not a fraction of a mile.