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"granddads" poems
Stuffed full of toys and ribbons, Tinsel and baubles, Santa and his reindeer, Deliver to all, Presents for children, For their mums and their dads, For Aunts and Uncles, Nans and Granddads, There’s perfume and clothing, Chocolate and sweets, Santa delivers the nicest of treats.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 11:20 AM UTC
Santa's Sack
I'm no good in a kitchen but, I can cook stuff all the same Around here, say "the recipe" and most folks know my name It hasn't changed in fifty years, and folks still drink it up I've been making it with my granddad since I was just a pup I"ve been racing cars through out these woods since before most learn to drive I've been chased by cops and revenuers, I surprised I'm still alive The funny thing, they know the route, and I always make the border Because if they ever caught me, I would just cancel their order Magic comes from our hard toil Once it travels through the coil We cook it slow on a low boil It's cooked according to old Hoyle It's magic in a glass And it'll put you on your *** In all the years that we've been cooking we've only moved on twice Not because the cops found us, but because of all the mice Grandpappy started cooking when the jobs round here dried up And me, I've been his helper since I was just a pup Everyone's on credit, we all live on iou's There's still no jobs around here, there just isn't no good news But, if folks round here need healing, we've got magic in a jug Our granddads old elixir is a moonshine mountain hug Magic comes from our hard toil Once it travels through the coil We cook it slow on a low boil It's cooked according to old Hoyle It's magic in a glass And it'll put you on your ***
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
Grandads Elixir
The Riche brothers and sisters compile the remainders of Manchester City programmes from 1958 onwards, rusted staples asides in a shuttered room, Moorhens and crab apple bloom outside keeps their e bay cottage industry bearable, residual poverty waxes and wanes, children always inheriting Granddads' stuff.
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Dec 12, 2012
Dec 12, 2012 at 4:36 PM UTC
Old "N" Gold.
Searching through the archives of - my family tree. Struggling through the mislaid vaults of ge-ne-ology. Personal contemplation on what might come to light. With so much work before me. I study through the night. Lines that take me nowhere all scramble through your head but curiosity pushes you as you study - the 'long' dead. Suddenly things come to a light, new relation leads that push you through the lonely night and sow so many seeds. Will it be - Maud Plantaginet who'll set me to the stars a Sir, an Earl or Baroness all Great Grandpa's or Ma's. A close link to a Tudor King of whom it's often said that if he doesn't fancy you, you could well lose your head. Henry Three, Henry Two, King John and Henry One. Many times Great-Granddads and the list - goes on and on. William the Con-queror and someone very quaint, Ma-tilda Von Ringelheim, she's an - Eigth Century Saint. Has all the work been paying off? Will the journey - be of worth? For who knows who - we're related too who has also walked this earth
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
Finding my Past
No Fence around this place just wide open space picked a lot on the edge of town my Uncle built it up from the ground just a place we can call home it was the vision that my father owned Every dollar that I ever made, I got from mowing at my neighbors place learned to drive a stick in the yard, 14 in my granddads car almost wrecked into our favorite tree, the one we planted just him and me When I stop and look around, I can almost here the sound Dads front porch philosophies, my name from momma calling me This is the place that I love the most, This is the place that I call home
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 11:53 PM UTC
House that Built Me
I miss you I miss the smell of your granddads cigarettes I miss the taste of your soft lips I miss the touch of your hands I miss the feeling of your love I miss you I miss the cigarette smell I was craving that awful smell I couldn't stop breathing it in I wanted to keep breathing it in until my lungs turned black Because it was the smell of you I miss you I miss the taste of your soft lips I was craving that amazing feeling I couldn't stop thinking about it I wanted to keep kissing you untill my lips hurt because I love your lips I miss you I miss the touch of your hands I was craving your thumb run across my hand I couldn't bare it any longer I wanted to feel your fingers rub against mine Because I love it when we hold hands I miss you I miss the feeling of your love I was craving you I couldn't contain myself I wanted to feel your love over and over again Because I love when our bodies collide I miss you
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
I miss you
I collect things that belong to you Books that you've always wanted to read but never picked up Sand from desert beaches you've wanted to see but could never touch My granddads military bike will shine brilliant in your warm green eyes I may have yet to see your face, but I grow to know you everyday I am going to meet another man like him A man that likes the things he did
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 9:06 PM UTC
Untitled
Under bright light, there they are again, close up upon my desktop, two stark reminders of my long ago-departed grandfather's hands, that now I have reluctantly inherited. Stiff and painful just as his must have been while nearing his own inevitable end. Hard used-weathered and bony, liver spotted with nearly transparent skin, vains clearly visible, wrinkled derma like aged yellowing parchment paper. Fingers having grown untrustworthy of dexterity and strength, not my hands I recall from even ten years ago. I loved my Granddads hands, they fit his other features; gentle, comforting and reassuring. I knew them and him no other way. Now my hands and face viewed up close are becoming bitter daily reminders of my own precious and fleeting time.
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Feb 20, 2023
Feb 20, 2023 at 4:50 PM UTC
Aged Parchment Paper
I'm thankful for family For sisters who love me I'm thankful for parents Who took their role seriously I'm thankful for a home That was open to friends I'm thankful for cousins And family that extends To uncles and aunts To grannies and nans To granddads and grandpas And in-laws and clans I know we're not perfect We've had ups and some downs But together we flourish We won't be kept down
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:15 AM UTC
Thankful