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Poem
I resided in a beautiful old home, on the sunny side of the street;
And I had friendly neighbors, offering hellos whenever we'd meet.

Often when I was off from work, I puttered in my house or garden,
As cool breezy treetop swings, are the select favorites of red robin.

My friends and I would sometimes gather, for backyard barbecues,
Like puffy clouds gather together, to experience the shades of blue.

I was the owner a curio shop, which sold souvenirs and rare items,
As visitors to the far-off lands, sometimes enter foreign kingdoms.

The business provided interesting work, and I loved each new find,
As flowers adore to get lost in the night, because true love is blind.

I, along with my three employees, jointly managed day to lilac day,
Like nature gladly manages, when all the children come out to play.

Some weekends my friends and I, took a starry night on the town,
Just as night owl starts hooting, when the crimson sun goes down! 

At home I had a grandfather clock, a fine and cherished heirloom;
And like luxury rays of sunshine golden, it vivified the living room.

I took the best care of my clock, to preserve its perfect condition,
In the same way one takes physical woes, to a qualified  physician.

One day I sat contentedly reading, whilst my cat dozed at my feet,
When suddenly she jumped up and ran, giving an enraged screech!

I looked up just in time to watch, a fearful mouse run up the clock;
As my cat snarled far below, the two caught in frustrated deadlock.

Or so I thought before the mouse vanished, behind the clock itself,
Frustrating the cat all the more, like shadows when sunshine swells.

I immediately began to move the clock, for I did not need any mice,
But I banged my clock hard in the process, and later paid the price.

All my efforts were for naught, as that mouse had detected its hole,
And had vanished someplace within, so sealing it was my next goal.

Afterwards I replaced the clock, but woefully its hands had stopped,
Just around the time mouse ran up, at 1pm-the hands were locked!

I was made doleful by this occurrence, until the clock struck at 2pm,
As wilting blooms burst to life with rain, reversing natural mayhem.

Next day I called a clockmaker, who declared mine in mint condition,
And he left me smiling happily, as if smiles were his solitary mission. 

But later on at 1pm that day, my sunny smile again had disappeared,
For the clock had stopped anew, but at 2pm, its radiance reappeared.

I had no choice but to accept, that my heirloom was forever altered,
Like fevered blooms in the spell of heat, when the rains have faltered.

I never saw that ole mouse again, though it has shortened my days,
Just as a day is shortened, as the sun goes to orange eclipse phase.

But my clock yet keeps flawless time, twenty-three hours of the day,
Excepting the hour a mouse took with it, in a mad haste to get away!
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