I sit alone and wonder why I am
Because she ought to be here - and she is.
She's just out for a moment, but I cram
All of my angst in then - the time should whiz
On by, but no, it drags, and lingers on
Because I cannot see her. Half an hour
Is time that should be very quickly gone,
But letting it be so's beyond my power.
Still, in objective time, it passes fast,
And so despite my silly wondering
My patience does not really have to last
And, thank god, nothing else is sundering
Us two: so I am happy. But these times
Are still good opportunities for rhymes.
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