that's a very nice poem, torp. see, even accountants can be romantic. (ps i know you're not a normal accountant - riding motorcycles and everything).
certainly if one measures a year by an atomic clock - something would be wrong with them. even to have one of those newfangled watches that synchronize with the atomic clock would bother me. if my husband had one of those, i'd wrench it off his arm and throw it in a river.
to me, the romance of life is not knowing what time it is, where you are, and only vaguely aware of what you are doing. like for me - seeing a baby smile, or being out in the garden when you first see something blooming, your husband's face when he realizes he has matching socks in the drawer, freshly cleaned house (ie spring cleaned), reading a book, eating chocolate - you know - the stuff you don't go around looking at your watch wondering 'how long is this going to take?' oh, and i forgot, PIANO! and sex (dare i say it). that's how i measure a year.
it's funny, but every spring when i attempt to spring clean (which is getting harder each year) - i look at all the cards from the previous year. that kind of helps me get a feel for the year. if it was a good year - i hopefully wrote as many letters and cards as i got - because they do cheer people up. and, unexpected phone calls. my husband is better with the phone calling and still keeps in touch with people in our old neighborhood back in calif. for no reason other than just keeping up with what they are doing and how things are.