Antiques
Antiques
He is there,
Grandfather Clock like,
a throwback to another era.
His finely chiseled and polished edges,
the scrapings of life,
the worn, faded, varnish.
His value
should have increased with age,
as with the clock.
Their timeless presence
sweet mementos
of a dusted past.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
