Papa’s feet would rock
To that old grandfather’s clock
We’d listen to the ticks and tocks
Of that old grandfather’s clock
Across from him I’d be
Sipping sweet iced tea
With my leg crossed at my knee
As still as I could be
I’d tilt my head back to the ceiling
Try to savor the feeling
Of time’s unchanging healing
And moments so revealing
Oh, the way that pendulum swayed
Reminded us time was ticking away
But it froze there a moment that day
Impossibilities, they find their way
Years and years have left me hence
And all to my expense
Moments of Papas’ two cents
Lead me through the present tense
But, oh if I could turn back the hands of time
All of its ticks, tocks, and chimes
If at any memory, I would be
In a sunlit room with my iced tea
There with my Papa at ten past three
Where time stood slow and still for me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice wish, but time is the one thing which keeps on ticking