Old Tower Clock

A glint of sunlight from its prismed face Catches the eye of the weary beholder, For years occupying a hallowed space The old tower clock still chimes bolder, Stolid guardian marking time and place As hours pass slowly in the marketplace. It clearly tolls and lonely, too, at midnight When townfolks are at home sound asleep, Year after year its appointed hour’s respite A time to live, a time to die, tolling complete Seeming to know the proper tonality When pealing for one's funereal finality.
Written September 20, 2022
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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Kendrick Avatar
September 21, 2022 at 6:31 AM
Good one in light of the recent death of HRM. Amazing how the clock was stopped then did not toll. Thanks for sharing this one. Sara
Hankins Avatar
September 21, 2022 at 8:37 AM
I was not aware of that. Are you talking about Big Ben? Thanks for the read, Sara.
Tor Avatar
September 20, 2022 at 5:52 PM
Clever Milton really liked your theme on this one. You gave the clock feelings and purpose. I could actually feel for the clock in the beginning then I realized what his purpose was and it all made sense. I like the twist at the end. Have a good evening...
Hankins Avatar
September 20, 2022 at 8:19 PM
Thank you so much, Michael. I appreciate your interpretation and your comment. You, too.
Lawless Avatar
September 20, 2022 at 3:04 PM
Yeah, Milton, there are times when it does seem that the "tone" of the tower clocks changes to fit the situations. Nicely done.
Hankins Avatar
September 20, 2022 at 8:20 PM
Thanks, John. I certainly have experienced that myself, and yes, I believe it does.
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