My Grandfather's Strap
by Don A. Landhill
Copyright (c) 2000

(Based on  "My Grandfather's Clock" by Henry Clay Work)

My Grandfather's strap was too long for the shelf
so it hung from a hook on the door
It was harder by half than his old palm itself
and it hurt quite a good deal more

It had taught right and wrong to our Family all along
He regretted that it should be plied
But it cracked, wide, never to strike again 
when the old man died.

Many years without faltering, 
Swish, whack; shish, smack!
Bad behavior soon altering,
Swish, whack; shish, smack!
But it cracked, wide, never to strike again 
when the old man died.

In watching its leather length swing to and fro
Many hours I had spent while a child
And my goodnees or badness the strap seemed to know
and to strike more severe or more mild
For it struck twenty-four when I crept in through the door
drunk and lying -- it blistered my hide
But it cracked, wide, never to strike again 
when the old man died.

My grandfather said
That of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he'd found;
For it wasted no time,
bringing home the desire,
to keep all the rules whole and sound.
And it hung in its place, till with frown upon his face
Grandpa took it to humble our pride
But it cracked, wide, never to strike again 
when the old man died.

Many years without faltering, 
Swish, whack; shish, smack!
Bad behavior soon altering,
Swish, whack; shish, smack!
But it cracked, wide, never to strike again 
when the old man died.


-DAL June 2000