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Grandfathers Clock

Its died with its master.

By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk Published 7 months ago 1 min read
The clock stopped with grandads last breath, never to go again

In the corner, silent, the old clock stands,

Its hands forever still, like forgotten plans.

It ticked through laughter, the joy and sorrow

But when he died, there was no tomorrow

A grandfather's love, so steady and true,

In its every tick, a piece of him grew.

Now the chime is but silence, a whispering sigh,

but in every heartbeat, I feel him nearby.

I recall the stories, the warmth of his grin,

The lessons he shared, where life would begin.

He taught me to watch as the seasons would change,

To find beauty in moments, to never feel strange.

Though the clock may rest, my memories flow,

In gardens he tended, his spirit will glow.

Each petal a promise, each leaf a reminder,

Of love left behind, ever growing, ever kinder.

So here I stand, by that clock’s quiet face,

Holding on tightly to his gentle embrace.

Time may have halted, but love knows no end,

In the silence I cherish, this clock is my friend.

And when night falls softly, I remember the days,

When he walked by my side, with his loving ways.

I’ll keep his laughter here in my own heart,

For though he has left, were never really apart

In every moment that passes me by,

I’ll carry his lessons, like stars in the sky.

The clock may stand still, but his love only grows,

In the echo of memories, his light always shows.

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About the Creator

♿ V+ Marie381Uk

Poetry has lived in me since childhood.

Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.

My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.

Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip

#Marie381UkWrites 

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    Written by ♿ V+ Marie381Uk