“Ilf Time Never Flew by Stewart Stafford

If a horologist froze time at dusk,
And there was no day or night,
Or days, months, and years,
What then for Earth’s masters?

Winged time stilled in a bell jar,
A castaway preserved in aspic,
Or stickily-entombed in amber,
Statuesque life an infinite daymare.

Boredom creeping up slowly,
A lockdown without progress,
The horologist would thaw time,
Freeing reality’s ebb and flow.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”