Hickery Dickery...my vocabulary

The chicken-shaped device ticked, so also it tucked. Its hands struck, it is 6 O'clock. The setter yawned, looked for and spotted his glasses beyond. Alert like a dog he sat up, leaped from his bed like a frog and headed straight for the door.
Aged and half awake, in a dark passage, he managed...staggered on a few suitcases, like a scale he adjusted his weight and redirected his way...He soon beat the maze, put his hand through an open space and felt for a chance to light up the place..."Much brighter!" He exclaimed. "Wake up! Make me a cup of tea and cut me a slice of cake. That's what with I'm starting the day." The boy grumbled, peeped at his clock and mumbled "This is terrible!"
With a temper, and a frown as rough as a creased up piece of paper, onomatopoeia, he grunted like a Mule deer and meandered until his temper was cleared.
Time had passed and he recovered. He marveled "Oh dear!" as he scampered. He panicked "The kettle! The kettle! Where is the kettle?!"
Meanwhile, the old man's patience ran out a little and he yelled "Henry! Henry! Where is my menu?"....
…Men, I'm tired of these rhymes. I wonder how old British poets found this convinient.