The hanging grandfather clock
Always says five to eleven
The pendulum is holding slightly to the right
I don't even remember how it sounds anymore
I don't even know if it works
I leave it unwound because I would get
Complaints from the landlord
It's that loud
As the day journeys on
Silence creeps slowly against time
And I am left to my own devices
I put a slow rhythm on from growing mad
Amazingly written and expressed! .. Definite Definite 5 Stars! ..+++++++++++++++++++++++
That's the way to deal with such situation and your poem takes through that emotional ground. Well composed poem LeeAnn.
How a dead clock affects our daily chores and slows down our life is wonderfully written...but the emotional bonding it has created is for ever cherishable...lovely write
Silence creeps slowly against time.... brilliant. How beautiful to keep relics reminding us of the past. The clock might not work but it's worth keeping! Bravo!
Congratulations, LeeAnn! This poem is now ranked #62 in the Best Poems of Members. A well-deserved recognition. All the best
The poem as such haunts our souls. But these lines are the most: " As the day journeys on / Silence creeps slowly against time ".. top score and Myfav
Beautiful poem. Every line, every word reflects the mood of the poem: decadence, immobile stagnant time… A poem that show's extraordinary brilliance in poetic excellence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It would be interesting to investigate the significance of that time. Perhaps, paranormal activity (of a good kind) is at work. You've got me thinking, LeeAnn!
You said it, Richard!