Clocks, Watches, and Steampunk

I am playing around with creating a little steampunk jewelry.

I received an amazing bag of watch innards in a recent swap!I want to give her credit - Michelle An amazing girl from Poland, with a great blog!


Then, I found an Etsy shop with some great supplies. Now, I am off on another tangent, trying to make something steam punk worthy!!!

Yesterday, a friend reminded me of an old childhood song- seemed kind of appropriate, since I am playing with clocks- here are the lyrics, from 1876! These clocks may have stopped ticking, but they will go on, in another form!!!!

My Grandfather's Clock

My Grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor.
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn of the day he was born,
It was always his treasure and pride,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.


In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours he spent as a boy.
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know,
And it shared both his sorrow and joy.

And it struck twenty-four when he entered the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.


Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tock, tick, tick,
It's life seconds numbering, tick tock, tick, tock,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.


My Grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found.
It wasted no time and it had one desire,
At the end of the week to be wound.

And it stayed in its place, not a frown upon its face,
And it's hands never hung by it's side,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.


Now it rang an alarm in the still of the night,
An alarm that for years had been dumb.
We knew that his spirit was pluming in flight,
That his hour of departure had come.

Still the clock kept its time with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.


Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tock, tick, tick,
It's life seconds numbering, tick tock, tick, tock,
And it stopped short, never to go again, when the old man died.

4 comments:

  1. I have supply envy - those pieces are wonderfully inspiring!

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  2. I admit I had to look up "steam punk" -- had no clue what it meant. What a delight to discover! I don't think I have much, but surely do remember watch movements with all kinds of jewels in them. I may indeed still have a couple that I recall were mine and will now have to look for them!

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  3. What a wonderful poem! Thank you so much for sharing.

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  4. Hello Pat, poem is lovely! I'm so happy that you like my package! And I was lately on flee market in my hometown and I've found something especially for you - just for our Christmas swap :)

    Kind regards from POland Dear!

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