Poem.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock,
Sounds I hear from the clock,
Round and round, it continues to go,
Seems to go on forever, as you know,

Round, square, all shapes seem to be,
Little lines, big numbers, for you to see,
Clicks, Clicks, Clicks, my head starts to shout,
Infinity of numbers, there is no doubt,

Batteries, cords, music, and CD’s,
Cassettes too, oh golly, oh geez,
So many tick tocks I have seen,
Store full of clocks would turn me green,

Wrist, neck, and even pocket watch too,
Alarms go Ding Dong to even wake you,
My thoughts now begin to wonder away,
Hearing that click, click, clicking sound all day…

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Comments (6)
  • Joie Schmidt on Jul 19, 2009

    Unique work*

    Blessings.

    Sincerely,

    -Liane Schmidt.

  • Daisy Peasblossom on Jul 19, 2009

    I’d never make it in a clock store–ticking makes me crazy. Good poem–just the way I feel around clocks.

  • Bill M. Tracer on Jul 26, 2009

    Did you work in a clock shop when you wrote this? LOL

  • Allison Jae on Jul 26, 2009

    This was pure madness. I thought of a clock maker going insane by his own creations. You could create a very funny character from this.

  • California Dreamer on Jul 26, 2009

    Thanks for the nice comments.
    @ Bill, no was not working in clock shop, but all these things just overfilled my head as if was that day. LOL
    @ Allison Jae, that is a good idea, I just might work on it this week and see what happens.
    Have a wonderful Sunday, Everyone :)

  • revivor on Jul 27, 2009

    nice theme, rhythm a bit off in places, enjoyed it, AJ\’s idea you should follow up – good work

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