My Old Grandfather Clock

A sonnet about the passing of life

Tick tock, tick tock, my old grandfather clock

whose face ever changes, yet still stays the same

his hands are relentless, ornate and yet plain

guiding the way through the night ~ to the day

Tick tock, tick tock, my old grandfather clock

whose chimes bring the signs and the changing of time

keeping me true with his relentless rhyme

his stoic dignity bathed in serenity, for all of eternity

Tick tock, tick tock, my old grandfather clock

whose strong brass chains still bear the weights

each swing of the pendulum, never being late

just the movement of time showing on his face

Tick tock, tick tock, my old grandfather clock

whose constancy keeps me, wrapped in his safety

Poetryman

Copyright © 2011 by Mike Sutcliffe

Author's Note

Any feedback welcome