
Photo from pinterest.com
Grandpa’s Watch
soft old gold patina
warmed by a rough rustic palm
timing medieval birth
of my father
in candlelight colored
by frescoes of Apennine landscapes
he painted while wearing
his bridegrooming shoes
this timepiece spoke life
carried vestpocket snug
from distraught
mezzogiorno antiquity
crossing the ocean of century
ticking its tireless memories
into the hands of my uniformed son
it holds heartbreak and triumph
the bloodline experience
marking we four
generations of men
nestled deep
in its intimate gearworks
where family converges
with history
What a beautiful piece of writing and history, thank you for sharing it! The words touch deep!
LikeLike
I appreciate your comments dearly
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Teacher as Transformer and commented:
One of the items I received from my Dad when he passed away was a pocket watch he had in his jewelry box. It always fascinated me and like the Guy Clark song about his dad’s pocket knife there is something in the old things that carry timeless memories.
LikeLike
thanks for sharing my poem with your readers
LikeLike
You are welcome Paul. The watch caught my eye and reminded me of the gift I received in my Dad’s watch.
LikeLike
Amazing how inanimate objects hold little bits of a soul, if only we look. Lovely poem.
LikeLike
amen and thank you kindly, Mikels
LikeLike
“ticking its tireless memories
into the hands of my uniformed son”
Beautiful lines.
LikeLike
thank you kindly, tony
LikeLike
Mmmm, I Lo-o-ve this one! Every phrase and line. I get the feeling that if I could touch it, it would still be warm–alive will all those ticking memories.
LikeLike
it would, indeed
LikeLike
“ticking its tireless memories” just one of so many lines crafted together to form a piece that speaks more than the lines written….yes…I love this!
LikeLike
thank you dearly, Christina
LikeLike
Appropriate poem for a theme today when I visited my town museum that displayed clocks and watches made by Colchester watchmakers.
LikeLike
what a pleasant coincidence – appreciate your comment
LikeLike
Reminds me of the watch I inherited from my Grandad, one of the most treasured things I have.
LikeLike
glad to evoke a pleasant memory – thanks for commenting
LikeLike
I have an inkling you have Italian background just as I do. I have my father wrist watch , he wore it everyday. There is something, a bond, about fathers and little girls that is special. Never far from memory, his hands still remind me of gnocchi and the best sauce in the world. Great cook that he was!
Enjoyed your poetry, need to come back often to read more.
LikeLike
yes, my parents were from Italy – hope you enjoy what you find here
LikeLike
Hi Paul, Very nice. Thank you for liking my poem ‘ The Monastery!’ Best Wishes, The Foureyed Poet.
LikeLike
thanks, Malc
LikeLike
Lovely. Family is history. Memories kept alive.
LikeLike
yes indeed – thank you kindly for commenting, Jane
LikeLike
I really like this… senses of our heritage… family…. excellent.
LikeLike
thank you most kindly
LikeLike
Beautiful and touching. There are so few who cherish each other, father to son like this. I stopped in to thank you for your comment on change and got a gift.
Alex
LikeLike
I’m so pleased to know you enjoyed this piece, Alex
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
LikeLike
Beautiful words!
LikeLike
thank you for the gracious compliment
LikeLike
Beautiful! And moving . . . like a good time piece should be . . .
LikeLike
it is amazing that it still works like a charm
LikeLike
The watch becomes a story; a history then a poem – marvelous stuff Sir.
LikeLike
and my son will soon pass it along to his
LikeLike
Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
LikeLike
thank you for sharing my poem with your readers
LikeLike