Grandad's watch
It's on my wrist it is, I wear it.
I wear it to remember the olden days
When we got swept in minor things:
Boy scout's camp;
pushes on swings
Schoolday pickups;
A bushy grey fringe
Bronze-painted arms,
Gold wedding rings
'Did you miss me Grandad?'
Through a faulty door hinge.
It's on my wrist it is,
And I wear it.
I wear it to see there
On the fold out living room table
Counting old stamps;
Battery fuse checks
Cheap pink meat;
Old cutlery sets
Urine-soaaked sheets,
Long dead pets
'Is it dinner time grandad?'
I learnt my alphabets
It's on my wrist it is
And I wear it.
I wear it to feel those
Massive mitd cupping tiny fingers
Hair turned grey-white to ginger
Pirate games;
argh, shiver me timbers!
Through the back door
The cat smell lingers
'Do you still love me grandad?'
I lost the garden sheer trimmers.
And I wear it;
Still I wear it.
With ginger beard
And forehead wrinkles
I wear it to keep the time,
And pass,
Like washing-up pans
Scrubbed from noon til dark
Sing-songs, how they gone so fast
Why goodnight kisses, they never last
'Is it bedtime, grandad?'
Your watch sounds blast.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick...
