'Tis life away from you I forget

Such meaningless measures as the clock

Or the watch or hourglass

As they move

They move so slowly

And life apart from you is small

A bud waiting for winter to flurry onwards

For flowers to bloom

So that it itself may bloom

And I may sit at my desk

Or stare at my picture

And my eyes may be here

But truly, they are seeing

Many a strange and wonderful thing

All with you

But without you,

'Tis not