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Love Grandfather Poems | Love Poems About Grandfather

These Love Grandfather poems are examples of Love poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Love Grandfather poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

GRANDPA

*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*

Hi, grandpa it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass
Do you remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, she doesn't want you to cry.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Do you remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed brushing my hair with her hands
Love the way she rocked me to sleep every night until I grew. 

Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Do you remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina dance
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma lived in
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandmothers favorite scarf.

Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Do you like the way she looked in that pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
I like the walking stick she handcrafted, the day your needed support
It kept you in balance every time we took long hikes in the woods.

Hello grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see grandma
Please tell her hi, and I know you will be there the day I die
Bye, grandpa
Give grandma a kiss, and tell her I miss her

By; PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Prose | |

Santa's Special Delivery: a collab

Brutal was the biting wind,
sweeping brown locks of a tiny urchin 
side to side, often hiding her eyes.
 
Oversized slippers she had donned
were lost in deep snow drifts.
She plodded forth barefoot, risking frostbite.
 
Little daylight remained to guide her;
a dangerous holiday trek she undertook.
Villagers in passing carriages didn't notice her.
 
With snow falling fast and accumulations growing deep,
she didn't realize she'd left the main road.
If only she could find her grandfather's cottage!
 
For Christmas Eve it was,
but in her heart there was no joy.
Her cruel stepmother’s house she left in search of love.
 
As darkness fell, the biting cold increased.
Her weary legs she dragged; with teary eyes she searched
in vain, for only shadows could she see.
 
A green-clad elf with lantern lit was homeward bound
deep in the woods, when all at once he spied this forlorn girl,
sprawled on the snow deprived of strength and shivering.
 
He shone the light on her white face; eyelids moved and flickered.
He read her thoughts and understood; he knew just how to help her. 
No time was lost; his crystal flute he blew to call his trusted friends. 
 
An entire family of elves pulled the shivering child,
placing her gently on a sled,
fully decked out in Christmas flare.
 
The elves had been on their way to Santa;
Yuletide deliveries had to be made, 
but the wee girl's plight took priority.
 
Once she was aboard the sled,  
reindeer arrived on cue,
ushering the crew to the North Pole.
 
The little girl came to quickly,
nestled in Santa's arms.  
With pleasure he brought her to her grandfather's cottage.
 
Grandfather sat alone by his roaring fire
when a knock came to the door.
He went to see who it could be so late into the night.
 
There on the doorstep his young granddaughter stood with shining eyes,
a dream come true for those who never give up hope.
He picked her up in welcome arms, a warm embrace of love.
 
The clock struck twelve. They heard the sound of jingling bells
as Santa waved goodbye and off he sped across the sky.
Christmas had arrived, and his first gift had been delivered! 

 
[Inspired by the first paragraph of The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Co-written by: Paul Callus~Carolyn Devonshire~Valentina Stagno-Navarra
Contest: A Christmas Tale
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Placed: 1st

Copyright © Paul Callus

Details | Free verse | |

'Love me with your Time'


I might make a noise right now There will be a time when I go silent Will you miss my racket? In those days of silence? I will no longer yearn for your presence Like I do at this very moment Will you wonder? Will you wish? For that good morning? I might be a nuisance right now I might ask you the same thing over and over One day Some day My voice will go silent All I ask today is be patient with me Please love me; with your ears Please love me; with your time Before all you will have Is my grave and the memories…
"Thoughts of the aged - loneliness don't discriminate " ©134517022015

Copyright © Wilma Neels

Details | Epic | |

To My Wife Grandpa Murray's voice

I wandered and travelled
Nor knew where I'd gone .
Life became a problem;
T'was one long cruel song.

My problems seem to multiply;
They came from every side.
I vowed to find the answer;
by this I would abide.

I looked into nature
And tore apart my mind.
Then put them on the table
To see what I could find.

I found that I'de been greedy
and avaricious, too.
Whenever projects of mine failed
I put the blame on you.

I found that I was lonely;
I thought you didn't care.
But what I really didn't know
Was you were always there.

You tried to fill the void
That always was in my Life.
you tried to ease the sorrow
You've been a real good Wife.
 
                           Yvette & Grandpa Murray  
          From James Murray to , Janet Murray ..his beautiful wife.
" In great respect of Grandfather Murray's poem he wrote for my  Grandmother Murray "

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Quatrain | |

Danny's Song Upon the Death of His Grandfather

When crashed to earth that mightful Oak
O'er that long. a'frighted night,
His tears did so high homage speak
As to slumber passed his Light...

Shoulders small, no more host to hands
Whose tender firmness helmed
Their little lad, and life, and joy
In eternal love enrealmed.

Trudged he stoic, that deserts waste
With heart beset and stormed,
His soul a stone-turned edifice
Then from parched dreams was formed

A kind but spectral silohette
Up from the nighted sands,
As boyish eyes enlivened gazed
Once more upon old hands...

They held a heart which yet did beat,
"For you, my bonnie Dan!
I'll love you from Forever, boy,
And in Love, live as a man..."

Ah, but dream, for now he wakes-
But so curious a thing!
For in his grasp there rests some sand
Which waking did not bring!

Copyright © Michael Grugan

Details | Narrative | |

Baseball in Heaven

My grandfather and I had a special relationship.

When I was young we lived near his home in Baltimore.  But, my family moved away from 
Baltimore when I was five and we lived most of my life in another state far away from my 
grandfather.  Whenever he called, however, I was the one grandchild he always wanted to 
talk to so we could discuss his beloved Baltimore Orioles.  I was the one grandchild who 
followed sports closely and always remained a true Baltimore sports fan.

Later in life, I learned that my grandfather was actually a gifted baseball player himself when 
he was young.  In those days, he would explain, professional baseball players did not make 
enough money to support a family so he had to make up his mind to either play baseball or 
get married and raise a family.  As it turned out, his love for baseball was only surpassed by 
his love for my grandmother and, although he hung on to the newspaper clippings that 
labeled him a “can’t miss professional baseball prospect”, he hung up his cleats and glove, 
married my grandmother and went out to find a “real” job.

But his love for the game survived and year in and year out, he and I discussed the 
intricacies of the game and enjoyed or lamented each baseball season based on the 
successes and/or failures of the Baltimore Orioles.  As crummy as the Baltimore bums are 
today, I was fortunate enough to experience and share many more successful seasons than 
poor ones during those limited years that I shared life with this amazing man.

I always felt sorry for my grandfather, considering him a victim of poor timing.  Had he 
been born about 50 years later in life, he would not have had to pick between being a 
baseball player or earning a living – in fact, with his talent, he could have earned a much 
better than average living while enjoying the one thing he loved most in life.

When my grandfather passed away, I was sure that he was joining a heavenly nine to once 
again strap on his spikes and don the leather.  Without a doubt, they must play baseball in 
heaven.  And I wait for the day that I sit in the heavenly bleachers and cheer on a young 
grandfather playing this wonderful game with other boys of summer.

(Inspired by, “is there baseball in heaven”, by Constance, A Rambling Poet)

Copyright © Joe Flach

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Your My Dear Friend

We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,

Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...

These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken

Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"

Copyright © Perry Campanella

Details | Epigram | |

Mom - You are my harmonious World

                       The poem is dedicated to my Mom..My bestest buddy ever..
                                         wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare

 Mom - You are my harmonious World!!!! 


      MOM you are a beautiful angel who always had an great heart of making my problems simpler..just cant compare you with anyone in this world..You have been moonlighting in my life since many years..you are my shadow,you are my strength,you are great friend of my mine..thanks for being the bestest mom ever in my life..you struggled so hard for curving my career,u painted ma life with colourful rainbows,thanks for ur patience when I get panicked,you knw how to handle me..My life will be incomplete without you..I can't spend a single day without having thought abt you..you always shower with an unconditional love..you are the  mesmerised persona..who lime lighted my life..my world..Wish you a very happy birthday and happy mother's day too..Love you mummy..



wrote by:
Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare

Details | Prose | |

My Grand Parents

When we are with you, we always have fun, You make us feel we're your special ones! If we really need a hug or two, we know that we can always depend on you. Giving hugs is what grandparents do best, And you do it better than all the rest! Everything that my grandma does is something special made with love. She take time to add the extra touch that says, "I love you very much." She fixes hurts with a kiss and smile and tell good stories grandma-style. It's warm and cozy on her lap for secret telling or a nap. At 1 in the afternoon,It is always grandpa's call. he asks"this app.... how to install??" My Grandpa is a wonderful man, Always believed in me, he knew that I can. Wisdom of life, openly shared, Comforted me, when I was scared. Here is a secret, and it is true- Grandma & Grandpa, my hearts belongs to you!

Copyright © sakshi sitoot

Details | Epitaph | |

Grandfather

Here lies the best Grandfather,
One who was very considerate.
Remembering him as a child,
I would sit on his lap.
He was a rare person indeed.
He was a colonel in the Army.
Also superlative of a gentelman.
Here lies the best grandfather,
May he rest in peace.

Copyright © Sarah Cassleman

Details | Free verse | |

The Old Salt

The Old Salt was a special man who came along in a time
when he was needed most.

A time that is now gone forever.
When men believed and sacrificed, when hero’s walked the earth in mass.

When patriotism was not just a word
but,
by what men lived and judged the worth of each, 
a man who lived a life most of us cannot comprehend. 

An era now gone as this warriors tour of duty ends at this station, 
and begins anew in the heavenly fleet. 

Sail on Sailor into your unaccompanied tour,
we salute you.

What greater honor, that when a man moves forward, 
he leaves behind in each of us the best of what he was. 

A defender, protector, supporter, victor, a warrior, 
the last of the breed from an era when ships were made of wood
and men were made of steel.

The Old Salt has reported for duty that takes him away from us for now. 

Those of us who remain behind,
remember, and will continue to remember, 
because he now resides forever in our hearts.

As I look up at night, I envision The Old Salt,
a beret draped just above the eye, 
as he draws upon his pipe, 
quietly he waits.
The guardian of heaven’s gate.


Copyright © Mac McGovern

Details | Free verse | |

Final Adieu

Final Adieu

Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.

Suyash Saxena
St. Stephen’s college

Copyright © Suyash Saxena

Details | Couplet | |

Goodbye Granddad

Gravity pulls my tears into pools.
Im sinking in sorrow -emotional fuels. 

Just turn back the time, I just want a moment. 
To say goodbye once, to cherish and own it. 

I loved my granddad - a man more than great.
Paired with my Granny as the perfect mate. 

A montage of memories that rush my soul.
My eyes fill with tears, I'm losing control. 

Just keep it together, it's what he would want. 
They all say the same, but I stand in front. 

Happiness swells, yet sadness prevails.
Like Christ on the cross, with hands full of nails. 

Life has a reason, and death isn't treason.
-It's moving on up.. A lifetime's a season. 

I look to the sky and say my goodbye.
The time won't turn back, I gave it a try. 

I close my eyes and imagine this-
Paradise in a place full of bliss. 

World peace in a piece of the world.
Without loss and bombs never hurled. 

Snow that falls that doesn't freeze.
Sun that shines that doesn't cease. 

A land where "The forever" is real.
A scene where the sick always heal.

Life with infinite love, like gusts in the wind.
Two little doves, with eternities to spend. 

God has a plan, fool-proof to the core. 
Now Granddad's with him, a reward of much more. 

-Yours Truly

Copyright © Yours Truly

Details | Lyric | |

My Jasmine

Written for my beautiful Grandaughter,  at the time she was born   Peter

My Jasmine

Oh Jasmine you were born to be an angel
And one day with your love you’ll change the world
My child, you are your grand dad’s special treasure
My Jasmine you’re my wide eyed baby girl.

My Jasmine, they’ll not find another flower
Who could fill my heart with joy, the way you do
My child, you are a rare and precious blossom
No words could ever spell my love for you

I thank the blessed power, that she did send us
This essence that be you my lovely child
The love for you that dwells within my heartstrings
Is like a tender rose that’s growing wild

Oh Jasmine, you have made this old heart happy
Which surely be the story of your life
For where thee be, then happiness will follow
Your tenderness will rid the world of strife

3 August 1999

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

Memories Made to Ponder

It was a tin-roof wooden house standing 
Across the red brick cobblestone street 
Adjacent to a wide open field full
Of shady live oak and sweet smelling tangerine trees where 
My father’s boyhood home was nestled  
Quietly in his home town. 

Often times we’d travel to visit 
The grandparents still living there 
In that Americana corner of our lives.
We didn’t know much of anything at all except 
The sky was blue, love was true and we 
Youngsters were the apples of the old folk’s eyes.

We’d sit for hours in white wicker rocking chairs
I helped paint one time with newspaper on the floor 
And a horsehair brush grandma gave me 
To teach me that painting needn’t be a lesson 
In staying between the lines.  “Sometimes,” she’d say,
“It’s better to let the paint flow 
And speak for itself in time.” 

And granddad liked to watch the sky – especially at night 
When stars were burning bright and would point towards Polaris and say:
“Heaven’s over that a-way.”  And during daylight hours 
When storm clouds appeared and we could hear 
Thunder and lightning all around, he’d laugh and dance 
As if the circus were coming to town.  

We watched mocking birds and blue jays flying in and out 
Of all the tree top branches and leaves singing 
Their love making lullabies to us and one another and then
As quickly as they arrived, 
Disappeared into the wind.  
It seems we’re not much different 
Rather family, foe or friend.  
  
Accordingly, the old house still stands today 
But the dear old folks have slipped away.  
Perhaps to the place once pointed to
High above that night sky view 
Where comets roam and grandpa liked to call “Up yonder,”  
Leaving me with thoughts of gold 
And memories made to ponder.         

Copyright © Terrell Martin

Details | Ballade | |

Our Jakob

Our Jakob

I’ll tell you a little story
About a little boy, I know
He has a mind at ten years old
That has a kind of glow
That says, “this boy’s intelligent”
He’s got something to say
He glows with curiosity
And learns more every day.

He has this sense of fairness
He’ll never let you down
And with his sense of humour
Each time he sees you frown
He’ll put a smile back on your face 
We love him oh, so much
This boy, he has a way with him
A kind of magic touch.

He be my one time only friend
He’s only ten years old 
And yet he has a heart so big
And made of purest gold
No matter where this boy goes to
My heart, it will go with him
I guess I’ll love my grandson Jake
Until my light grows dim.

30 July 2013 @ 1757hrs.






Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

Just Down The Road

Just down the road there is a cemetery
for World War One vets and for them only.
It is not quite full and it never will be.
They are all dead now, everyone who served;
those who died young and those who survived.
My gramps is buried there; he survived the war
and lived to the ripe old age of ninety-five.
Gramps was wounded twice while he was there
by those he called “them damn stinking krauts”.
I still miss my gramps to this very day
and every now and then I will visit his grave
at the cemetery just down the road;
but not very often because each time I do
I break down and cry for he was not only gramps,
he was also my very very bestest friend.

Copyright © Jerry Stevenson

Details | I do not know? | |

Grandpa

Pictures and moments stick
Past life sticks
The boy knows but cant see the light of 
the unknown picture of you grandpa.

Copyright © Ace X

Details | Free verse | |

the story of my life

When i was about 5 i was put in to a SRS. I was there tell i was 7 and when i got out i move to my grandma and grandpa. When i was 9 my older brother started to beet me up every day and all day long and then when the beating he was giving me stop working he started doing other thing to me. When i was 12 i losted my grandma and then my grandpa didn't want nothing to do with use and still don't. i took my brother *****tell i was 15 then started to beat on him. My brother put me in jail for a few year because if the *****he made me do now i am 21 and have losted and got back the girl that i love and care about her name is Holli Sczenski. Her family don't want use together so they are making her choose between them or me she dues not want to have to choose between use she loves use both and i know it and her family know it but there still doing it. On top of all that my own family is going throw somethings as while my mom is not doing vary good and we may or may not lost her in the next few years.

Copyright © william martin

Details | Rhyme | |

Bucket Full of Love

In his damp, snail smelly, back yard, water boiled in a vat.
"Hurry honey", said Grandpa, "the tide has just gone out".
In my six year old mind, we were in for a "great big treat".
Willingly, I'd fill my bucket full with sand crabs we'd all eat.

Overcast dark sky and dank fishy cold wind didn't dampen
spirits while scanning wet sand for holes that were sunken.
Intently digging, then oh so thrilled, I yelled,"I found one!" 
Clunk! Into my little tin sand bucket it fell; one prize won. 

Sadly looking, seagulls mocking, I'd managed only eight.
Grandpa smiled, dumped them in the vat with, "GREAT"!

Copyright © Charlene McCutcheon

Details | Ode | |

Grandma Hearts Grandma

I never met Grandpa
so I do not know
if he ever went dancing
or stubbed his toe.
But I do know
one thing-
Grandma loved him.

And Grandma died
when was in 8th grade.
So we didn't talk
I am afraid.
But I do know
one thing-
Grandpa loved her.

Copyright © Lisa Stoffer

Details | Free verse | |

A Toy Brings the Ugly Me Out

He sits on top a dusty shelf;
his care when he showed none.
I think you gave me your
unwanted gifts.
And yet this
the only thing
you gave my family,
better than a beating.
I forgive you because
you are a fellow human,
but I hate you.
I hate how you remind me
that my family is jealous.
I hate how I have to hold
onto you; I don't want you.
You old, dusty,
boxed race truck;
I don't want you.

Copyright © Sean Cannon

Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily

Details | Rhyme | |

To Hug Granddad Again

To crouch beside him in the rows,
Counting seeds beneath rainbows.
Three in each hole, I’d count with glows.
He let me help; his garden grows. 

To sell the pears he grew and picked.
Red wagon wheels click-click, clacked, clicked.	
One penny each, the price was strict.
The neighbor kids their fingers licked.

To shave his beard while on the couch,
To hear his words; those never grouch,
And tales of ghosts for whom he’d vouch.
Yes, all of this without one ouch.

To sit beside him while he sleeps
In quiet stillness without child peeps,
Until, alas, his scare would creep.
Awake he snored; was not asleep.

Or hear the tales of where he’d been
His work on waters with boatmen,
Three busy tugboats from docks to glen.
Granddad, my hero, way back when.

To hear his laughter once again,
Reliving days that were back then.
Alas, his death brought my chagrin.
I live to hug him once again.

Copyright January 14, 2013
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

(Forever Families, God taught the way
Grow pure love of Christ everyday.
That’s what the L.D.S. people say.
I live my life to hug granddad someday.)

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Details | Alliteration | |

African Allliteration

#What we want#

Dear Dada,

What we want is worth

Let love live, 

Peace perfect praise...

...Let long lasting law

rule round reign.

Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole

Details | List | |

Old Dogs and Children

Old Dogs and Children**

Woke up
always a plus.
Took care of business.
Found my teeth -
a must.
Brushed them…..off.
Made coffee
meditated on its scent
and promise.
Met the dog at the door
(no explanation necessary)
Made breakfast for two.
Exchanged greetings
grumps, grunts and
hugs with wife,
confidante and lover
(all at the same time)
Thought about-
-cutting the grass
-washing the truck
-bathing the dog
-planting some flowers
-colonizing the moon
Woke up - refreshed
Didn’t do any of the above.
Visited five month old granddaughter
-changed diapers
-pushed carriage
-sang songs
-Grandma fed her
-changed diapers
-played on floor(with baby)
-stayed on floor(to recover)
Returned home
Made coffee
meditated on its scent
and promise.
Met the dog – again.
Shared a quiet(?) supper.
Exchanged good nights
grumps, grunts and
hugs with wife,
confidante and lover.


John G. Lawless
5/15/2015

**with apologies to Tom T. Hall
Song title “Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine


submitted to – Today I Accomplished – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Sara Kendrick



Copyright © John lawless

Details | Rhyme | |

She has gone

Standing there alone at the graveyard
Calling yearning memories of the past
Can't stop his tears , that's truly hard
She has gone , What a dote didn't last!

Shrouded by thoughts , downcast eye
Her voice is still beating in his ear
She was singing like a bird under the clear sky
When he played harp and waterfall was near

Can't forget these hoary promises to be together
On good and bad , To make love their guide
He just wanna say he will be loyal forever
Until his soul meets her on the other side


By: A. Badr

Copyright © Ahmed badr

Details | Free verse | |

Poem For My Grandfather

Our time together was the best
You were the father I never had
I looked up to you 
And you never once let me down. 
Remember when we grew that apple tree?
That was the best summer ever
We made that bench too.
We never could decide on the color
I wanted red and you wanted blue
Its still where we left it.
The last time you were able to go out 
and enjoy the air.
Then you got sick 
and I never once doubted 
that you would get better
Only you didn't
You were getting worse 
until you started slipping away
Away from me 
Away from life
And I cried and cried
Hoping, praying, begging god to make you better
But he didnt
On your last day 
The phone rang
And I knew
I couldnt answer it
Instead I broke down
The day after your funeral I painted our bench
Blue, just like you wanted.

Copyright © Shanice Hilliard

Details | Rhyme | |

Grandpa tribute to grandfathers everywhere

Grampa? It’s a question usually posed with an inquisitive frown On an angelic face with large, limpid eyes And whatever I’m doing, I stop and put down Peer sagely over bifocals and look grandfatherly wise “Can you fix this grampa,” shy tentative pleas Red plastic toy held out in soft delicate fingers Tear tracks on pink cheeks, scraped, dirt darkened knees Touches deep to my heart, on child’s face my gaze lingers Sad, liquid eyes under brows scrunched and worried Timid, flowerlike smile slowly blossoms on small face My broken toy examination, slow and unhurried Parts and pieces put back together with exaggerated grace Rose bud lower lip, bitten by tiny white teeth With young brow furrowed with intense concentration A wondrous thing, this childhood belief Mouth morphs to O shape in amazed celebration Grampa’s done it again, that ingenious ‘ol geezer By fixing the toy has come through in the clutch I’m arthritic, and smell funny and I’m a puffer and a wheezer A pushover when she whispers, “gramps I love you so much” A huge happy hug and a loud sloppy kiss On grey bearded, prickly cheek These things I’ll treasure and will too soon miss When no longer ‘ol grampa they seek

Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic

Details | Rhyme | |

A Home Brew Fiasco

A Home Brew Fiasco

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for this kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Sun was about set into its rosy red glow
three hills over was square dance and show
I set me a mighty happy and quickened pace
so very eager to get to that dancing place!

I hear that fast fiddle singing from afar
stop to drink last liquor from my fruit jar
Another burn that went down mighty fine
whiskey my favorite, never cottoned to wine!

One more high hill to just climb on past
swirling head tells my legs to please last
Sun has set and darkness so rapidly falls
music rings louder its beckoning calls!

Another hundred steps and I'll be there
singing, dancing and pretty gals everywhere
Ease myself up against this restful oak tree
surely a rest will be so very good for me!

Eyes heavy and dark clouds coming on down 
now is no time to worry, no time to frown
Darkness races into this tired old brain
no worries, rest easy avoid all the strain!

Morning sunlights breaks between the trees
O' my, pray I didn't sleep all night please
Suddenly I hear the morning call of a dove
I missed out on last night's dance and love!

My lips were parched, my tongue on fire
another shot I did so very much desire
Thank my pappy for that kicking home brew
O' Lord, how to make it, if only I knew!

Robert J. Lindley , 08-21-2014

Inspired by a story my uncle told me back in 
1965. How grandfather once made moonshine and 
missed out on his first date with grandmother.
Luckily she was a forgiving woman and grandfather
a very handsome man or else they'd never married
and I would not be here to sling tha' ink!

Copyright © Robert Lindley