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In the pure bright wake, I went fishing’ for calm and all I caught was tumblin’ time. 
The hours were soppin’wet with pond scum and the seconds kept getting’ away as soon as I thought I had them hooked. 
The minutes peered up at me from the crepuscular waters and told a lie. “Be patient, those seconds can’t escape forever! You can get them, we just know it!”
They spoke with bubbles in their mouths, then those minutes were gone. 
I struggled with my fishin’ pole, the line hopelessly tangled with some phantasmic bugbear, my nightmares come alive! Probably a log, though. 
The hours in my bucket (catch of the day!) pulled me from my musing with weepin’ and howlin’, it was all so unlovely. What were they cryin’ about?
“Our beloved minutes! Precious seconds! We are in ruin without them, can’t exist without them,” the poor things whimpered. 
I kicked the bucket over and the dark water inside spilled the trapped hours onto the dock and over the edge. Sploosh! Plop! 
The hours proclaimed a love that is by far the only great love there is. Flawless. Desperate. Irrevocable. This paramour is unheard of! I heard the whispers on the bubbles.

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