Grandpa was quite an eccentric fellow.
Apple butter sweetened his coffee.
Wore high suspenders of red and yellow.
He'd slip me peppermints and toffee.
He'd lift me high on the shiny tractor.
We'd traverse the rows of citrus groves.
Of course the weather was often a factor.
The air smelled of grapefruits,oranges and cloves.
We'd ride through the sagging trees,he and I.
Had to dodge irrigation streams.
I adored him so,I can't deny.
He listened to my colorful dreams.
One day I looked up and he was old.
Knew I'd be missing him before long.
The thought of him leaving made me cold.
In my life he was a joyful song.
So I made the most of his company.
Raptly listened as he told me his story.
It's written on my heart,you see.
For Grandpa has gone to live in glory.
Copyright © Deb Wilson