254 – Too Many Hands

Too Many Hands
We’re not blaming you exactly… we don’t have any fingers left to point.

The inspiration for this one is a couple of poems that I wrote years ago.  I hadn’t thought about them until last night while I was out for a walk.  The two poems are intended to be printed as a pair and are entitled ‘The Clock with No Hands” and “The Clock with Too Many Hands”.  Here, for your reading pleasure, are the poems in their original form, as written on January 20, 2004:

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.