Time threads her necklace patiently,
Choosing carefully the colour and shape of our experiences,
Here, a tumbled quartz - luminous and rosy,
There, shards of darkest onyx - tragic and uncompromising,
Every now and again, a perfect sphere of sacred turquoise to mark a special occasion.

Finally, satisfied with her handiwork Time ties off the strand,
And weaves the precious metal of our dreams - unrealised - into an intricate clasp,
As she places the memento around her bejewelled neck she sighs to herself and whispers:
‘Such promise, such pain, such beauty, such loss; I will treasure you always.’
Then reaching for her spool of silver thread, she begins again to thread her golden needle.