I wonder whether this clock ground to a halt at 6.30 in the morning or evening and what time of year it happened. Perhaps it was summer, so the gardener was outside and missed his breakfast or tea as a result. Maybe it gave up the ghost at the same moment as someone died, a bit like the grandfather clock in the well-known song written by Henry Clay in 1876.
Sarah is a British eccentric who writes offbeat fiction, haiku and tanka poetry. When stuck for words, she sketches or paints instead. She's into nature conservation, sustainability, gardening, dogs, natural health, and reading. Her sociability is something that happens in short bursts with long breathing spaces in between.
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Reminds me of the poem ‘Nearly Four’ by Jeremy Lloyd. A teddy bear thinks that it’s always nearly tea time as he looks at the old clock, both of them on the rubbish dump, and he won’t know that the children have abandoned him until it reads gone four *sob*
Now it’s right twice a day. Interesting thought though.
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I was so busy thinking up stories surrounding the broken clock that I didn’t think of what now seems obvious! Yes, it would be right twice a day 🙂
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I like the nostalgia of the old clock
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I think the person who has kept this clock must be nostalgic about it, although it is rather attractive-looking in a strange way.
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Reminds me of the poem ‘Nearly Four’ by Jeremy Lloyd. A teddy bear thinks that it’s always nearly tea time as he looks at the old clock, both of them on the rubbish dump, and he won’t know that the children have abandoned him until it reads gone four *sob*
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That teddy bear story sounds as tear-jerking as “The Velveteen Rabbit” *boo hoo*
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I love the way your mind went, wondering when the clock stopped, why and what impact it would have had…
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My mind works overtime most of the time, but hopefully it won’t rust up and stop suddenly like that old clock for many years to come!
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