Twenty

All our yesterdays will gather where

The next tomorrow anticipates

Till the count of twenty

Pleased to make tomorrow wait

Stars the fog feathers asleep

The sun pecks at the morn

Stills the count at twenty

That the breeze adorns

The forest murmurs long and sighs

The meadows sweep afar

Toll the count of twenty

The echo chimes au revoir

Two paths weave near and wander

Draw a destiny each

Then on the final twenty

Dry pens such lessons teach

Although more research is needed to grasp the full effect of oxytocin on our species, it is well-know as the bonding hormone. Although the back story of this poem deserves telling, it hasn't been written to any satisfaction. In time.