Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

There is a clock that is hanging high up on the wall. 
Hands moving slowly ‘round each half hour it gives a call. 

Tic, tock, tic tock, then at the half hour it may give a bong. 
Or if it is a musical clock, it may just sing out a song. 

A cuckoo in a clock will call, for each and every hour. 
The clock may wind up, use a battery, or run on electric power. 

No matter what kind of clock the time may pass so slow 
If you are waiting time for someplace you want to go. 

And if you have a lot to do or are having a good time, 
The hands will seem to fly by leaving you feeling behind. 

© Copyright 1998 by Jean E. Gorney