A/N: Part II of the Experiment in Style. Italian Sonnet.

The clockmaker sits inside of his shop
Old batteries and gears strewn across the table
Of a grandfather clock befitting a fable
The ticking, a buzzing that will never stop
As he picks up the pendulum lying on top
He climbs the step ladder, slightly unstable
And attaches the gold plate to the cable
At sixty-five, he's learned a lot of this crop.
There are those that spring forward and those who set back
Spring forward, jump ahead, try to jump time's track
Set back, move slowly, think through passion and sorrow
Take your time, because there's always tomorrow.
People are strangely like the clocks that they set
Though not one of them knows the future just yet.