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The Clock On My Mantelpiece
The Clock on the mantelpiece
Has a story to tell of love
It is a memory left behind
Like that of two turtle doves
My mother was in middle school
My father in her class
They were friends from grade one
How this bond did last.
Mother had a problem
Was always late for school
Trouble was in waking
As parents were in night pool.
They both worked together
In the country's health unit
Her father was a doctor
Mother a matron in Munich.
So to avoid any embarrassment
Father gifted her a clock
Mechanical; with a chime and tock.
She used it to all good use
Cherished the gift from dad
Not aware that some day
They would wed after grad.
I grew up with the click-clack
The hammer chiming alarm,
Alone at times I would admire
Golden hands that bore a charm.
They crawled slowly forward
Across the face of time
Every half hour it would
Announce with a chime.
Now the clocks gone silent
Wheels have stopped to turn,
I look at it in wonder
Curiously filled with concern.
I needed it repaired
Restored to its place
Needed a reliable horologist
To save the clock's face.
Read about just that kind
In a Swiss country town
Went there to meet him
Hoping he'd do a discount.
I was surprised to learn
He would do it for free
Cause that was the last clock made
For a friend named Henry.
He was young then in Munich
Making clocks and watches to sell
Had younger siblings
Had to support by himself.
His parents killed in war time
When bombing over town
They were in the cellar
While we played in wooded ground.
He called me back months later
I saw the clock all done
I offered him a token
A new friendship had begun.
Took the clock back home
Driving all the way
Placed it on the mantelpiece
Where it stands till today.
Copyright ©
Trevor Dsouza
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