The Room of Clocks

I remember when I was a child; there was a room full of clocks

Each hour of the day, the room was overwhelmed with many strange ticks and tocks

And when I entered the room, I couldn’t be found

I was lost with the realm of clocks; they were all odd shaped and round

Some were wooden, some were tall, and some were shaped like a house

Some were in the shape of a cat, whose eyes wondered the room in search of a mouse

And the eminent grandfather clock, who stood so bold and proud

Loomed over me with its numbered face, it was like a shroud

The clocks were lovable, relaxing and happy

To see one today would make one feel a bit sappy

And I to this day adore the antics of clocks

Admiring every single one of their ticks and tocks