Old Grand-Father Clock
now polish cracked,a worn-out broken crock
Gathering dust, His innards out of stock
Standing alone in a dank corner forlorn,
Forgotten in the clutter of the attic,
Not even now considered an antique.
Stilled, His pendulum's hypnotic swing
No more His tick-tocking minutes at play
Muzzled His ding-donging chime
As the deteriorating years chime
Blurry and mouldy His faded dial,
His statuesque charm, a forgotten style.
Then perchance finally, the fate's to mock
Ancient Father Time caused the day to arrive
To have Old Grandfather Clock
Refurbished and in grandiose splendour revive
To once more majestic in the halfway to stand
On His refreshed dial a new minute's and hour hand.
His walnut lacquered skin a glistening display
With polished pendulum swinging pride-fully anew
And tolling chimes, pealing the time of day
Now standing in grandeur for all to view
Tick-tocking, ding-donging the time away
A Praying homage to His Redeemer, the Master-Craftsman his Due.