Blindfold the New Year?

I serve the tea of certainty
On the distant lakes of sand
Where grow the flowers of the hours
Slipped through Fortuna’s hand

But why? They asked a bit too fast
A daring move for sure
So threw I them a two and ten
But still they wanted more

The time is nigh said calmly I
And tapped my wrist for measure
To wit, they said and we ate bread
Then parted ways with pleasure

--

We have not quite yet passed the post where Janus sits, but it's Monday so what can I do? Happy New Year! At least this way you have a couple days to solve this poem before the ball drops.