The Clock

The clock chimes in my brother’s house
Just like it chimed
In my fathers
Just like it chimed
In my grandfathers
Just like it chimed
In my great grandfathers
Its painted metal face implacable
As it viewed the history of our family
Across continents
States towns streets
Long dead hands wound
The delicate balanced brass pendulum
As future hands will touch
Its skillfully carved oaken case
Strong against the changing years
Weathering hard times
And passively enduring the good
Holding in its ornately constructed hands
The minutes and hours of our days
To chime in my brothers house
Just like it will chime
In my nephews
Just like it will chime
In the home of those yet born
The clock chimes

26 thoughts on “The Clock

  1. I love the idea of a family clock surveying the passing generations. How wonderful! I remember the peacefulness of my grandma’s house, and the loud sound of her metal clock tick tocking on the kitchen window ledge. Loved this poem. It took me back.

  2. I like the use of the clock to tie in the lives of all those who have gone before us , and those coming after us ~ I have seen some of these grandfather’s clocks – they were built to last very long ~ Nice one ~

  3. I love old clocks, especially clock with a pendulum but, a ticking clock would drive me nuts! LOL
    Loved this, it is precious to hand such things down through successive generations and pass it on through family. Fabulous analogy for the time prompt too.

  4. smiles. this made me think og the grandfather clock at my grandparents house….it always set a wonderful rhythm to the sundays we spent there…lovely verse kathleen….hope you had a great weekend

  5. isn’t it soothing, the ticking of such a grandfather a way it speaks of tradition, re-assurance and battles fought and won, of evenings around the chimney, of kids born and people who died in dignity after a long and full life…beautifully penned kathleen

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