TICK,TOCK,TICK,TOCK...

Tick,tock,tick,tock,
Nay,I'm not crazy;really, 
T's the horologe yond's ticking,
Moments from mine own life,
T's the time yond it is picking,

Memories pour out of mine own mind,
Of long summers and starry nights,
The holidays hath spent with cater-cousins,
And those fartuous pillow fights,


'r at which hour we ranneth about in the gardens,
Hunting f'r grasshoppers and butterflies,
Plucking the quite quaint flowers,
Nay responsibility in life,no tether,
Did wet in the merit summer showers,
Nay one to stand ho us;not coequal the weather,

Oft we would just forswear down,
And gaze the night sky ,with wonder,
Looking f'r shooting stars ,and shapes,
Of the constellations  in the infinite space,

Nothing bother'd us,
Not mosquitoes,'r flies,
'r coequal parents shouting ,
At the top of their voices,
To calleth us in f'r the night;

Those wast the wonder years,
At which hour we did throw caution to the winds,
Nothing wast moo important than excit'ment,
Logic and reasoning,we very much hadst none,