Son, Say Goodnight To Grandpa - Part 2
originally my intent to expound on memories
when paternal grandfather erode
out to said residence, and averse to expand horizons
asthma late mum didst goad
him (in vain) to commingle, find intelligent links
analogous to electronic signals communicating ip node
but this towheaded grandson,
merely excited when me daddy's papa
came to this figurative antipode,
where pegged back in time
when this elderly regal family member
only a half decades shy,
whence benchmarked by horse drawn carriages rode
but more to the point, twas how eager
to toy with the wristwatch (analog)
which chained metal links wore a temporary imprint
upon his aged skin – dog
head lee remaining even departure time arrive
for favorite boyhood relative,
which when a kid also glee at occasions
treasuring older folk gave me a frog
tiled toy (sliding puzzle) that required dexterity
moving pieces fastly secured,
which when complete always left me agog
and this, that or some other gewgaw, souvinir, trinket
(plus a bit of chump change given to me)
spurred me late mum to spark me mental cog
to say “good morning”, “good afternoon”,
“goodnight”, or when eggnog
proffered to this most senior chronological guest,
who sat at the head of table,
or blankly watching television like a bump on a log
while chided, forced, induced...
to parlay social graces from this mere pollywog
who (much as delight arose fussing
with trappings worn loss on atrophied flesh)
a skittishness found me averse to follow orders
as if I happened to be a petsmart dog.
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