The Clock Master. Set 1.

Don’t wind me up anymore he raged
at the key of sleep, I’ll stop your heart,
take your hands off without so much
as a peep.
The key ignored his screaming
round face, continuing to turn even tighter
at a more pertest pace.

Alarmingly chimed in remarking,
you’ve done it now, you‘re so dumb,
given that it’s his old works, I’ll not
get used he’ll slow the pendulum..
He being the grandfather clock in the
house of second hand chime. Where all
the clocks and watches were set minutes
or seconds behind, or in front of correct time.

Be quiet shouted number twelve don’t
you care that seven’s ill, the poor chap,
he’s exhausted from trying to climb
that horrid hill.

The hill they spoke of was the most feared
of all time true, any number trying to climb
there would face whatever that hill knew.
And believe me he knew plenty he’d been
there since the days of king Solomon wise.
And being so, you had to have a special kind
of momentum to be first claim that prize.

The prize being correct time true, that has
been a part of all man’s life since the beginning
of Earth’s journey round the sun. But believe
me getting correct time true was never going
to be, or in fact meant to be fun. Time true,
a living beat that man has measured not quite
correct, you can’t measure with machine or
dial those subtle nuances of nature, we’ve
come to expect

That the sun goes down or up inconsistently,
as we’ve learned to sleep or to be awake.
Why is man so bothered with correct time
true anyway for goodness sake.

The numbers had tried forever, to get up
the hill and correct their wandering second
hand. They were all off time true and surely
doomed to a halting as things did stand.
Neglected by the hands of man the clocks
had to become self reliant, but the truest
works of all belonged to Grandfather, and
they were giant.

Grandfather was the best timed true
but grumpiest clock in the whole house.
You’ve probably heard of him, he was
the one who chimed at one chasing off
a wriggly mouse. We clocks are not the
strongest, though some have great endurance
when seeming to run forever. The fact remains
we’d never have been here, if nature had
not made man so obsessionally clever.

Suddenly a sound, shuffling feet in strode a handsome
young gent glancing here and there with a consummate
ease. They, the clocks did not know it, but he would now
look after them, clocks indeed would become
a passion his inquiring mind to please.

Stranger they chimed a young upstart, what
right had he this room to rake, didn’t the last
human tear them apart, was he not a fake?

But Alice the slim French maid clock said she liked
his eyes, and if he’s given a chance they maybe
pleasantly surprised. Grandfather grumbled and tinkled
little knowing he would become a favourite in this man’s
care, that this would be his time in daylight away from the
darkness of under stair.