Pearl opened her eyes and then looked all around
There were enormous shelves filled from the ceiling to ground
With the loveliest clocks she had ever seen
(In fairness it may have all been just a dream)
A clock-master monk was the only one there
He spoke out to her without leaving his chair
“You may ask only one question, and take only one clock
The moment that you leave this place will the door forever lock”
There were cuckoo clocks that looked like oh so much fun
Fine gold pocket watches that were second to none
There were carriage clocks with pendulums swinging out through space
The variety made the room such a beautiful place!
Something odd she noticed, though almost impossible to think
Though there were countless clocks, they all seemed to be ticking in sync!
There were so many questions bouncing through Pearl’s head
She thought long and hard to decide which one should be said
Where’s this place and how’d I get here? Who makes these clocks and who are you?
But a tiny wall-clock caught her eye before her thinking was through
As she observed its finely crafted hands, and the gears that made it spin,
It stopped ticking before her eyes never to start again
“There’s one thing that I’d like to know before I select my prize,
can you tell me why this clock right here has stopped before my eyes?”
The monk sat there a while looking both content and weary
In a moment he would answer her one permitted query
“Every clock is ticking, some say they’re counting down,
It’s not our place to know how tightly each of them is wound
“But if such a thing concerns you, makes you fret or want to cry
Please take a note that while you do, some good ticks will pass you by”
Pearl would leave that place, if she’d ever been there at all
With a beautiful mantel clock, chosen from the furthest wall