Old Man Clock

Old Man Clock

A Poem by Michael G. Smith
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Old Mantle Clock

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‘is eyes sunk; below ‘orizon

Settl’d down into twilight glitz

And ‘is slumber too

A chilling gaze crept, forth

From within grey wrinkl’d slits

 

Did ‘e know I was watching

A peek upon the ‘alf quick

And at every other ‘our

‘is mumble; ebb and flow

Lapp’d from beneath a chin thick lip

 

Soon took to the minute

A crow’s foot began a tick

With a ‘and and then second

His nose kept time

As it began a dancing twitch

 

‘is face in synchronicity

As features they slept

Intervals and chimes

Character and rhyme

As he solemnly dreamt

 

When after musty smell’d days

Waves and gaze still bereft

‘is itch and tick all but left

And dare I think it

“May, it be ‘e’s dead?”

 

My fears soon were unfound’d

As an old bag o’ bones awoke

To the smells of jam and toast

A spot of ginger tea

And a long pipe with a cherry touch smoke

 

Anst again ‘is eyes grew heavy low

As night fell into an easy chair

Sounds began all wound up

The ticks and tocks of Old Man Clock

Once again fill’d up mi attic air

© 2019 Michael G. Smith


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Added on February 26, 2019
Last Updated on February 26, 2019