My father's clock outlived him - just -
A remnant from the war
With ailing cogs and movement frail
And rhythmic beat no more.
Thus, needing a memento,
To mark his passing time,
I bought an antique keepsake
Quite strikingly sublime.
My companion now for thirty years
Residing in the hall,
With varnished wood and pictured face
It stands some six feet tall.
But, though undimmed my love affair,
The clock has many quirks:
It loses time and scorns the rain,
Unruly when it works.
Despite these minute defects,
My true love there's no doubt.
The clock would always win hands down
Should ever fire break out!
I
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem about any object which you love the most let it be perfume,books,etc. |
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An object
Contest Winner
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Author Notes
My clock has cost me at least twice as much in maintenance as it's original value which has now probably halved. I love it all the same! Please note, in an attempt to endear itself to me still more, it agreed to illustrate the sentiment in the last stanza!
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