Sunday, December 6, 2020

"House Poems" Part 2 of Chapter 1: Tick the Clock and Tock the Clock

Tick the Clock

What a wonderful ticking clock am I!

My gracefulness will make the other clocks cry,

Polished oak and working hands,

I'm the best clock you'll find in all the lands,

The worst thing you'll see is my brother Tock,

He is not fit to be a proper clock,

The walls say we argue, the curtains say we fight,

To be honest, they are both right,

What a wonderful ticking clock am I,

My gracefulness will make the other clocks cry.


                                           Tock the Clock

Whatever rubbish my brother said, 

Don't listen to his hothead,

I am a light blue and black,

I am digital so cut me some slack,

My beautiful blue radiates at night,

I am visible, and I am bright,

I can play music, I can set alarms,

I am the one who always charms,

That brother of mine brags on and on,

Luckily he stops at the crack of dawn,

He is so old-fashioned and is five minutes behind,

His voice is hoarse and he is half blind,

He believes in analog clocks,

Those are from the age of wagons and ox.

My beautiful blue radiates at night,

I am visible and I am bright. 


No comments:

Post a Comment

Prism

Prism My mind is a prism. That reflects my stormy soul, Everyone sees a different side of the hurricane in my head.