It's not the doorbell.
There is no one at the door.
Seriously, it's not the doorbell.
It's my clock.
A very mini-grandfather-clock
Sitting on my fireplace mantle
Pendulum swinging back and forth
Chiming every fifteen minutes.
It's not the doorbell.
Everyone that is new to my house
Always asks
What's that sound?
My favorite sound
A sound from my childhood
From my grandma's house
A clock that chimes every 15 minutes.
Grandma was my favorite
I was her favorite, too.
I loved to spend the night with Grandma
Sleeping on the couch to the sound of her clock
Playing cards with grandma
To 500 or midnight
Whichever came first
The clock's chime forever in the background
My clock was a wedding gift
A time in my life long past
The sound is what is special
Because it sounds like Grandma's clock
As I sit and read
As I sit and write
Grandma is with me
Because the clock reminds me
My grandma had a coo-coo clock and my parents had a chiming clock. Thanks for taking me back in time.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem! The way you put the words together is a beautiful reminder that it is not the big things in life that will make the biggest difference... It is the card games, the smells, the sounds, the clocks... Beautiful.
ReplyDelete