or sign in with e-mail
by xox kate xox Oct 11, 2004 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
Its face and hands are full of time, A moving record of minutes past, Its case is cracked but sturdy still, Clockwork moves, It chimes. His face and hands are full of time, A moving record of minutes past, His smile is cracked, but he stands quite still, Slowly moves, He charms. Oh carefully we wind it up And look up to its wise old face, I respect its age and history too, It ticks and tocks, At a gradual pace Oh teasingly we wind him up, And look up to his wise old face, I respect his age and history too, He steps the stops, At a gradual pace