Poetry – Grandfather clock




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt. Not sure how to participate? Here are the steps to get started.


Grandfather clock

Mismatched hands and tiny feet

Tick? No – a tock

Mechanical hearts, chimes that beat

An old eternal mantle seat.

Baby cries at will

I hear the sound – where? Half past three

Time! Stop – stand still!

Curious little eyes I see

A youth leaping to old for thee

I step forward

but leave behind a memory

Cogs unbothered

Turning fast, time turning quickly

Where’d time go?

Not here…

Not there…

I’ve lost it…everywhere?


Hello everyone again! It’s another Cinquain. This is my second attempt at this mode of poetry, you can find my first attempt here

I first cane across this mode at  Creative Talents Unleash – a wonderful website for this poetically inclined.

If you are unfamiliar with type of poem – it follows a loose five line metric verse.

Line 1: Four syllables

Line 2: Eight syllables

Line 3: Four syllables

Line 4: Eight syllables

Line 5: Eight syllables

Older forms of the poem rhyme – however modern examples rarely seem to do.

Feel like an experiment? Attempt your own Cinquain!

Choose an aspect of your life, live it and love it. Memories are passing, writing is immortal. 

What better way to honour it but to make it eternal?

Explore your fiction.

And love your reality.

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4 thoughts on “Poetry – Grandfather clock

  1. Cool piece my friend.
    I think you captured the clock perfectly in all it’s ‘behaviours’, the big hands tiny feet a particularly good line.
    And I like the development from it of what time is and means, the ‘lost it everywhere’ is a perfect way to phrase the fact we don’t get it back.

    Liked by 1 person

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