Of course there was ***
Before 63 and the Beatles
First LP. You found some
Proof. Grandmother kept
That quiet. The photo was
Tucked away between pages
Of a Percy Shelley. One lives
And learns. New knowledge
For old. Who was the man
Kissing Grandmother’s neck
And embracing her fondly?
Passionate whoever he was
And she enjoying it quite a
Bit, and scantly dressed at
That, you muse, turning the
Photo over to the back. In
Fading ink, some pen had
Written, you were never shy
And always bitten. What a
Way to be remembered, you
Smile, tucking the photo back
Between pages of the book
And put it in your pocket for
Safekeeping. You’ll keep it
Safe all right, tucked beneath
The pillow where you’re sleeping.
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 12:35 PM UTC
Of course there was ***
Before 63 and the Beatles
First LP. You found some
Proof. Grandmother kept
That quiet. The photo was
Tucked away between pages
Of a Percy Shelley. One lives
And learns. New knowledge
For old. Who was the man
Kissing Grandmother’s neck
And embracing her fondly?
Passionate whoever he was
And she enjoying it quite a
Bit, and scantly dressed at
That, you muse, turning the
Photo over to the back. In
Fading ink, some pen had
Written, you were never shy
And always bitten. What a
Way to be remembered, you
Smile, tucking the photo back
Between pages of the book
And put it in your pocket for
Safekeeping. You’ll keep it
Safe all right, tucked beneath
The pillow where you’re sleeping.
Fictional poem which is not about either of my grandmothers. Written 2010.
Request permission to use this poem