The Clock with No Hands
I wish the thief would soon replace
the hands he stole from off my face.
How will I know when I should chime
if even I can’t tell the time?
No need to wind, or else adjust –
I’m only good for catching dust,
for as I tick, and as I tock
I always show it’s None o’clock.The Clock with Too Many Hands
Upon my shelf, the clock that stands
has one too many pair of hands,
and as those hands around it go,
one set moves fast, the other slow.
So is it noon, or almost eight?
For two say early, two say late.
And so they fight, all day, all night…
but neither pair is ever right.
These poems, I’ve doodled to before, but it’s the first time that Andrew has read the poems himself.