Grandaddy

He wasn't a shy man, 
 nor was he quiet.

He never met a stranger, 
 aways a kind word said. 

He was a joker too, 
 his blue eyes twinkled 
 with perpetual laughter.

On his lips,
 a quirky song he'd share. 

I miss him so, 
 sitting in his favorite chair
 and how he called me his little angel.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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