Old Man George

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Below is the poem entitled Old Man George which was written by poet Indiana Shaw. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Old Man George

Old man George - 87 - who lived next door 
Is I am afraid no longer with us - any more
No - he has not gone and popped his clogs
He is up the on hill with green grass to slog
As an old Shepherd they have placed him best
Near to a place where his old sheep dog rests
He now has the pleasure of looking down on us 
And visits us daily by using the towns local bus
Twenty three years he has been living next door
I would have been happy if it had been some more
Grumpy old George they called him that was no lie
Could be heard all over letting off curses he let fly 
Me - I just thought he was funny way George go
As he called all women slags even one an old crow
In the end they all had enough - George had to go 
They stuck him in places where his heart said - No
I worried and worried thinking how sad at 87 years 
Who thought it was just funny to leave him in tears
Then news came in that he moved to the top of the hill
And I thought to myself “Wow” that was more than brill
A really lovely old people’s home catering all of his needs
With a lovely garden - then out to the birds he still feeds
As I look at his old garden now covered high in weeds
And all the bird boxes empty - now of their bird seeds
The council has just come to clear out the back garden
Twenty three years of growth just left there to harden
And as if old George is not having his good old revenge
When emptying the sheds - did tons of wasps descend
Watching workers running for cover - as only they might
Scared of hundreds of wasps and that one may just bite
Me behind closed windows looked up to the top of the hill
I almost hear old George laughing as the wasps make a kill
Even the old bat next door had done a runner in utter fear
How I wished no one had warned her and she got bit dear
Four old put together sheds - are now getting pulled down 
And not one little bird in the garden - is there to be found 
So my worry goes on as we await the new tenate to arrive
If the bushes get torn down and birds’ nests get to survive
The garden is like an aviary to just about every bird around 
I worry about the ground birds Mr Black and his Mrs Brown
Thinking to myself how time I am aware can never stand still
But here’s to old George having a last moment up on the hill
I'll always remember you George - Shepherd and old "Mucker"
Who lived next door who farted a lot and swore like a trooper
May you live the rest of your days warm - merry and bright
Still cursing us all below from your new home - up a height . . . ; )

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 9/12/2017 2:11:00 PM
Very descriptively good poem, Indiana. That old fella seemed like he was some kinda pepper. Excellent narrative poetry. Love and joy always.
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