Time Enough

in our measure of time there are curious circles filling our days, numbered moments marked by the scars of transiting lights, heavens moguls of tribulation 'n plight, that give or take away -- the indifference of time that measures man, in cycles round 'bout heavens span, meted out in lines that grid the world in constant sorrow, Saturn stuttered, disappearing today in some further loss of tomorrow, yet we also know that ticking clocks in circles go, 'til time enough for love is lost to reasons chains and at what cost; the Gods of Time in cycles go, a-round, a-bout, a-turning slow, fast re-turned, they come, they go, there's time enough, for love you know. though I spend my time, circling the horizon with my mind's eye, seeking the curve of her Venus belt, a circumference of sunset reds, surrounding the sky, she is on the face of it, a timeless piece, a swinging pendulum of rhythms sway, a clock that circumscribes my day, and in every second of my nights, a tick to my tock that ne'er quits nor ever is passe'