#granddad
"Ninety-three years seem long
But life is short -
How youth seems strong
But life is short -
How you love and give,
Life is still short -
How "is" a few minutes ago
Became a "was"
Oh, life is so short."
Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
her grandmother stood at the window in the kitchen
the corners of her mouth turned up into
an unconscious slight smile
at the sight
of a spinning yellow blur
under the big oak
in the middle of the pasture
surrounded by green grasses
wonderous hues of wildflowers
she quietly called out to grandad
come see this
the lanky cowboy sauntered in
from the breezeway
with his umpteenth cup of coffee
peered at the blur of yellow
opened the side door
stepped out on the deck beside the metal glider and
called out in his smooth baritone voice
sheeeeeelllllliiii...
sheeeeeelllllliiii lllllloooooooooo...
she might have
been 4
or perhaps five
precious in the way
innocent girls that age are
dressed in smocked yellow lawn
white lace
patent leather
up to her shins in spring grasses
slowing her spin
she turned toward her name
her face radiant she took a wobbly step or two
then broke into an off kilter run
arms stretched out before her
he took a few long strides
bent his tall body low
offering a bent knee
wide open arms
she flew into them with all her might
knowing she would be caught
rough housed with
and given a wickereye
from the window her grandmother took it all in
sighed
said to herself
hold this dear
hold this snapshot of the soul
for. ever.
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 9:15 PM UTC
Joy alike to mine residest in the wet smile of that granddad with
whose son every stranger wishest to play with and giggle with
Joy alike to mine residest in the eyes of that goon whom approached thee
with a wish of disappearing his misery
Joy alike to mine residest in those
those sculptures who were freed after the perennial to get broken
Joy alike to mine residest in those drizzles departest who from the cloud,their master for good
A joy,brought to me by thee,unrelatable and unreasonable,
when showest understanding and trust,
there assures though no tyrst,
something that blooms out of broken pieces,
drenched in love
ever and ever
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 8:58 AM UTC
I sat on my hard, green footstool, still, in my grandma's front room, musing over the warm madeira crumbs on my blue-veined white plate.
I climbed up onto my granddad's chair, as familiar as the aroma of his St. Bruno flakes, infused into the dark promise of his worn, warm desk, impatient for his return.
I'm waiting still.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 7:26 AM UTC
Little girls can be sad
Or is her blue gaze but fixed into the bubbling fountain
caught in a tale that adults cannot grasp?
Pops taps her shoulder
We must go, he mutters
Granny is waiting
Little girls can be sad
an ugly word
a wrong dress
an angry teacher
a friend gone astray
lack of purpose for a long walk downtown
Little girls can be sad
Holding grandpa's hand she performs
a subdued dance to the music in her head
not touching forbidden stones
and without Pops noticing
a quick splash in the puddle
Little girls can be sad
But not for long this time
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
counting down
10 [sighing thoughts, aching fingernails]
9 [ugh where do i go now]
8 [falling apart...]
7 [my eyes are slowly blinking now]
6 [at the sight of your frail broken body]
5 [the quiet beeping next to you]
4 [my own heart is picking up]
3 [oh god oh god oh god]
2 [the beeping is rising the beeping is rising]
1 [i'm crying now]
silence
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC
I sat on my footstool,
In my grandma's front room,
Staring at the warm madeira crumbs
On my blue white plate.
I climbed onto my granddad's chair
As familiar to my eight years
As the flakes of his St. Bruno.
And I was found there,
Next to the smiling promise
Of his dark desk,
Waiting for his return.
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
You know when you are growing up
The stages you go through
Make you the way you are
They help to make you...YOU
The people who you deal with
Whether family or your friends
Are very influential
And they're with you 'till the end
But little things they tell you
Might get on your last nerve
You know you sometimes hate them
And it's not something they deserve
I miss my Grandad fiercely
Now, more than before
I wish I'd listened closely
And I wish I'd listened more
You know the tales that old folks tell
The one's we love to hate
Like "you've not got it hard boy"
"You've got it ****** great"
We all know about the walk to school
The uphill walk both ways
About how they only had an orange
And it had to last four days
You know they meant the best for you
But, that's not how it came off
You'd love to go and visit
But, you also loved to scoff
Times were always harder then
You never knew what you had
At least that was the feeling
That I got from my Grandad
They all got married younger
They were stronger in their minds
We were lazy, non-commital
To hard work, we were blind
So, every time a visit
Came around, I'd ask to stay
I'd rather be at home alone
Than with Grandad for the day
But, one day changed my feelings
I learned what Grandad was about
When I went there for a visit
And my Grandad took me out
We went out for a road trip
That my parents did allow
And that road trip still stays with me
My eyes were opened....wow!
He knew I would have rather
Stayed at home and not been there
But, I went out for my parents
And he knew I didn't care
First he took me to a building
"I'm just here to quaff a brew
And while I'm sitting with my cronies
There's something you must do."
I didn't know it was a legion
And he handed me a book
He said this was a memoriam
And that I should have a look
Each face I saw stare back at me
Had died before their time
They went to fight for freedom
Not just theirs, but yours and mine
Mere children when you think back now
And how they went to war
They would forever be this young
And would not age forever more
Grandad said, "We're going"
"We have another stop"
And it was at this destination
That the other penny dropped
He took me to a statue
In the park, so resilute
It was stone and bronze and copper
And my Grandad did salute
The cenotaph he called it
I'd not heard that name before
He said it was a monument
To those who'd gone before
The names and the young faces
That I'd seen that afternoon
Were honored by this edifice
That stood like a Roman Ruin
"Each town" he said gave their young men
To make sure Freedom reigned
"And each Legion has a book like ours
So we don't forget their names"
I stepped back from the statue
that honored our towns dead
He said, "do not salute"
"you can stand and bow your head"
That day, My Grandad reached out
And he made me understand
All those things he'd told me
And what it takes to be a man
Now, years have passed and he is gone
I miss him every day
"We walked up hill both ways to school"
I'd love to hear him say
Forty years have come and gone
Now, I'm a Grandad too
I've two grandkids I'd love to see
And, I hope they'd love to see me too
But, just like me when I was young
They want to live their life
They'd rather spend time with their friends
Than with their Grandad and his wife.
My son dropped by the other day
And the kids came to say hi
I'd love to see them more than this
And that's the reason why
I loaded up the car with them
"I' won't be long my dear"
"We're just off for a short road trip "
"Just to go and have a beer"
She smiled, she knew the reason
And I know that she is glad
For I want them to be proud of me
Like I was, my Old Grandad.
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 5:26 PM UTC