Seconds, minutes, hours, the date

Hands and a face, a little late

Splitting hairs walk the line

Have no time, I’ll share mine

Is it all planned or left to fate

Why this place, country or state

Path, trail, follow the sign

Under the light of stars that shine

A sudden moment to anticipate

Study the odds, what’s the rate

Plants, soil, taste fresh wine

Chosen food, time to dine

What is served, is on the plate

Mediocre, good, great, superb

Lives of twists, turns, and rhyme

Find the highest mountain to climb

In my blood, hereditary trait

Years and years, a long, long wait

From ‘WARBLINGS’