Grandfather Clock
Thrown on a heap
Of rubbish
Beyond the reach
Of a little child
The old grandfather clock
Lying on its side,
And how he longed
To look once more
At the strange mechanism
Of time,
The curious little cogs and wheels
That moved in precise alignment
Measuring out the brief moments of life,
Even now at the eleventh hour
Before the match was struck
And the fire consumed it all.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2020
Best wishes to all on poetrysoup for 2021.
Copyright © W.A. Cholt | Year Posted 2021
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