Cuckoo Clock Poem by Nikhil Parekh

Made of curvaceous ornamental brass,
sometimes parallel straight arms of white metal,
coated with different shades of radium paint,
hung to long center pivot thoroughly oiled and greased,
the hour hand moves at painstaking speed,
the minute hand ticks a shade faster,
the second hand is the fastest of them all.
all thick needles displaying time,
passing moments of pragmatic life,
traversing in circular clockwise journeys,
in a background of finely calibrated dial,
and roman numerals ascending from one to twelve,
all this compactly imprisoned in water proof glass,
tightened by an artillery of shock proof screw,
triggered by maze of compressed springs,
with gold plated chains suspended to be wound,
and the chirpy cuckoo announcing its presence every hour,
with melodious cadence of bird sound,
nailed to plaster in our living room,
winning accolades of innumerable visitors,
is our unfailingly loyal cuckoo clock.