Grandfather clock had stood there for a long time
Even longer than he could remember
He had been told that he came from a long Germanic line
Life had been good apart from the ringing in his ears
But he had learnt to cope with that over the years
But had to admit to that small feeling of terror as the hour approached
Things had gone wrong once back in 1921
Something about a main ratchet and spring
So for a few days he had been able to rest and meditate
And listen to old grandmother clock keeping her time
Fortunately someone had ‘programmed them’ with a minutes clearance
So they didn’t compete a lot
And it was nice to hear her less somber and more melodious chimes
He had heard talk along the corridor of the new era of clocks
The ‘electronics’ that didn’t need winding
But what did it all mean?
He had to admit though that getting wound up was a bit intrusive
Invasive even, and since they started letting the little people do it
It had become uncomfortable
They pushed and twisted and got stuck
Maybe he should think about the conversion job a bit more
But for now he was happy with his lot in life
He had been often admire and even praised and lovingly touched
He looked across at grandmother clock and could have swore
She chimed just out of the blue, as if to say let’s stick together on this one
© davo
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