...written as though by Mr. Sark...
Two Years' Sentence
If time could indeed be played
as grooved vinyl, spinning reel of tape
looped forward or back with
well-oiled knob's ease,
altered with a practiced wrist's flick,
its dial I would set to Paris
before our web had spun,
sticky and contorted as a taffy pull.
For though sweet,
it turns a belly
and one longs for easier times
and chances second
and for your presence, Darling mine,
This lonesomeness--my own sentence--to lessen.
Disclaimer:This work is not affiliated in any way with the ABC spy series Alias, or, for that matter, Mr. Sark, whose poetry--until such time as he wishes to make it public--remains unsung, unfeted, and largely unknown.
by: Neftzer 2003 (c)
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From my website, Mr. Sark Writes Loves Poetry royaltoby.com / alias / sark.html