My Grandad
My grandad was there when I was little;
My grandad would always make me giggle;
Telling jokes, stories and tales, my grandads love has never failed.
In Alder Street or at the flat, my grandads love, it was just that.
The market stall, to buy and sell. I'd always love the tales he'd tell.
From cheeky children, to hagglers galore, you mess with him, he'd show you the door.
On Christmas Day, when I was small, he loved the games, he'd play them all.
Pass the parcel he loved the best, even when he wore a dress.
He loved my brother, yes that's you.
When he came to visit, he'd visit you too.
From birthdays and Christmas, even just passing. I loved the sound of him just gassing.
He loved his whiskey, I would say cheers.
But I'm pretty sure he owes dad a few beers.
He loved his beard, perhaps too much.
He'd always stop mum from getting his cut.
He loved his children, his grandchildren too.
As for nanna, how could I forget you.
Well well nanna, what can I say.
You are the one with whom he lay.
After years of marriage, I know it's true, that grandad was, the one for you.
I've finished grandad, I've nothing more to say.
Except that I hope, you're proud of us today.
Copyright © Caroline Smith | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment