The Golden Street

The Golden Street As I sit here all alone And reflect on the home My son invited me to share And I readily agreed This is where I want to be With my son ,and grandsons Living within a realm of love so rare I recall my youth when My Grandpa was my best friend And he welcomed my Daddy and my Mom There in his two room shanty Where Mom gave birth to nine And he expected nothing from anyone. And Grandpa christened me Irish lass. His Dad was born in Ireland Way back then I can recall Meals were few and salary small. But I tasted wealth in the presence of Grand-dad And I was told how Grandma moved away After her first four were raised She left Grandpa And three young ones all alone While she sought excitement In Montreal, Quebec Grandpa labored daily and spent nights Void of warmth Yet he never spoke of regret And he loved her from his marriage to his grave Grandpa took his responsibility Seriously Regardless of how his children turned out Grandpa stood by them consistently He accepted the negative He praised the worth Because Grandpa understood He was responsible for giving them birth And maybe I am old fashioned But I believe Grandpa was right If you bring a child into this world You'd better treat them right You had better be prepared to love them In the good times as well as the bad You had better be prepared to dry tears To comfort them when they're sad And if you fail to love them unconditionally If you toss them away where doom they meet Then you don't deserve them in the first place And you don't deserve to walk The Golden Street by Joan Donnelly Ellis April 14, 2016