A Time for Everything

There always is a time,
Happier than the one you're in-
Simpler-neater too-and with a glass of sweet lime.

You don't have it filed in a folder
Or buried under a boulder.
The Yellow Pages won't list its number
For it chooses to not disturb its slumber

Till a conversation seems complex,
And a sigh becomes a reflex;
Till the light of today,
Seems blacker than yesterday;
And till your steps decide
to leave all aside.

It's then that you remember a chime,
And climb down each second and minute and hour
Exactly to where you left a time:
Happier than the one you're in-pickled  and kept in a jar;
Simpler and neater too-handing you a regret sublime.