DOCTOR WHO: THOUGHTS ON A CLOCK

'Thoughts on a Clock' was a fragment of poem found in a Christmas cracker in the final episode to feature Matt Smith as Doctor Who, in an episode titled 'The Time of the Doctor' by Steven Moffatt.

During the COVID-19 lockdown I have been lucky enough to continue working largely unaffected but decided that it was time I undertook a project purely for pleasure and so I have been recording my own version of every poem ever quoted in Doctor Who, going right back to the 1960s.

'Thoughts on a Clock' has never existed beyond four lines of a poem but it has given me chance to flex my own writing wings and so I have produced a full version which chronicles the lives of each of the first eleven Doctors.

The adventure starts at one, the universe waits for you,
Open the box, therein discover stories old and new.
Those first minutes they were cautious, rewriting not one line,
The hour wore thin and friends looked on as lives did intertwine.
 
Time ticked by and all too soon the face was showing two,
Renewed and strange and yet the chime was reassuring you.
Seconds passed like a carefree hobo running all the while,
But freedom is only temporary when sentence follows a trial.
 
Three brought a spearhead of colourful flair,
Masterly schemes, a dandy debonair.
Down to Earth units of timely advice,
Returned stolen moments would come at a price.
 
Four’s Bohemian style skipped in,
Sweet little children and a winning grin.
Segments of time with a girl’s best friend,
While a mortal foe prepared for the end.
 
Five fell upon us with a pleasant open face,
For interesting travels in time and in space,
Brave-hearted sacrifice, a young woman’s boon,
And the bell struck again not a moment too soon.
 
Six arrived brightly, so bold and so proud,
Chiming eloquently, clear, firm and loud.
Unwanted hiatus meant momentum faltered,
Times change and the clock face inevitably altered.
 
Seven, a mystery, a champion of time,
Scheming yet playful, a juggler and mime.
Broad new adventures that many wouldn’t dare,
Over in a shot, the ending laid bare.

Eight passed by quickly with style and with grace,
The blink of an eye that saved the human race.
A healing physician that gave way to war,
Showing us a life that we had never known before.
 
Nine rose out of fire and of flame,
A moment filled with consequential blame.
The mark of a wolf in time time saved the day,
And the hands soon indicated change was on the way.
 
Ten was double quick, four beats to the bar,
Crisis averted, yet a victory too far,
The sound of drums heralded faces from the past,
No one wants to go when time speeds by so fast.
 
Eleven like a madman, a question in plain sight, 
Unconventional food and a curious crack of light,
A river running through it, a final Christmas morn,
Confusing times for all concerned, a young-old man reborn.
 
And now it’s time for one last bow,
Like all your other selves.
Eleven’s hour is over now,
The clock is striking Twelve’s.

The recorded version can be heard on YouTube here.