In the quiet of the night, a whisper clear,
The clock’s hands dance, time draws near,
Each tick a heartbeat, steady and true,
A symphony of moments, old and new.

Shadows lengthen as the minutes pass,
Memories flicker, like light on glass,
The past and future entwined in grace,
In the clock’s face, we find our place.

Morning dawns with a golden hue,
The clock’s song begins anew,
Day unfolds with promise bright,
Guided by the rhythm of its light.

As twilight falls and stars ignite,
The clock keeps time through the night,
A guardian of the moments gone,
Until the break of a new dawn.