The Pieces of the Clock Lie Scattered

So, hurry up!
The evening's coming.
The grown-ups are on the way.
There;ll be hell to pay.

You forgot about time
While you sought its secret
In the slippery wheels,
Some of which had teeth.

You meant to enthrall
The girl across the hall.
She drew so near,
Her breast brushed your ear.

She ought to have gone home,
But you kept telling her
You'll have it together again
And ticking in no time.

Instead, you're under the table
Together, searching the floor.
Your hands are trembling,
And there's a key in the door.

Charles Simic - current US poet Laureate

Acrostic Lament (notice the first letters of each line!)

Winter not giving up
It's attempt to slow us.
Lingering beyond the
Limited welcome
It had five months ago.
Allowing us to try on,
Many times our premature summer
Regalia. Thinking this year was different
It's being the first time for spring in March.
Changing the weather pattern
Henceforth deleting
April from the cold wet months.
Reaping harvest in August
Diminishing rain and ski seasons
Marking March as start of summer
Instigating climatic change.
Lamented by opponents of ozone depletion
Lambasted by organic decaf drinkers.
Alas it was all in our minds - winter
Remaining usual six months
Dividing the year equally as ever.

wrm (written in California in 2002)