Sonnet XXXVI

When time indeed does stop would you look back
Pray tell, would you come back to pick the bones
Of ageing, aching, loveless, lonesome homes
That crumbled in your wake. I dust the stacks

That once held clocks of sand, imprisoned time.
I still sit by the hearth, and fan the flame
That once did burn in hearts, did love proclaim.
Now all that is is little more than rime.

Now time runs ragged all that's left of me
Now night is darker, darker still the dawn.
My mind's a smokey cauldron now wherein
I cook a brew of all that was, could be.
I've hung a lamp in case you chance upon
I've left the door ajar to let you in.