The ticking, tocking endless tide

Tells a truth it can’t confide

 

A truth of ships and clocks at sea

That have a strange mortality

 

Where hooded figures tick from depths

That no man’s mind could fain posses

 

As abstract numbers, rigid waves

Betray clocks and ships for days

 

Where sirens’ whispers bounce of keys

That turn the clocks a few degrees

 

-A few degrees; an hour lost

-a few degrees; a port forgot

 

And now where are those clocks and ships

That dance like dotted gambling chips

 

Across a sea that’s on no earth

But rather circled ‘round times girth

 

Where ships are ticking through the waves

And clock hands sail through time for days

 

Oh tell us augur, what is this?

The timely truths in ocean’s mist.