I know a man whose kindness touches the
hearts of many,
And he would often be the first to lend you
his last penny,
Yes his heart is pure gold from out of love,
Right from the hands of the almighty who sits
There are times I drive him crazy
with all my “do this” and “want to's”
He loves and cares for all those people that he
His family, relatives and most of you all,
Many happy memories I carry within my
Vowed never to forget and never to be apart,
As a grandson I would look up to this man with
For you see he is my friend and he is my
Copyright © Shubham Singh | Year Posted 2016
A boy needs a Grandpa,
for man-to-man talks.
To go hand in hand,
on companionable walks.
To fix up his toys,
when they no longer go.
To tell him the things,
little boys want to know.
A boy needs a Grandpa,
to show him the way.
To handle a puppy,
to teach him fair play.
To impart bits of wisdom,
he's learned through the years.
That it's no disgrace,
for a man to shed tears.
A boy needs a Grandpa,
to sit on his lap.
And if no one is looking,
they take a wee nap.
Each wrapped in an aura,
of love and esteem.
Each smiling gently,
at some special dream.
By William P. Darnell Sr.
Copyright © William Darnell Sr. | Year Posted 2013
“She was mine” was all he thought
His spark was gone, forever had seemed so long
The gleam in his eye, dulled as days went by
He’d been trying hard to carry on, she was two months gone
He could no longer cry, all life was now, was a lie
His sadness growing deeper, as the world continued to fly by
His girl was gone now, his reason and purpose no longer around
For years he cared, he couldn’t show, but those actions spoke louder than any words
she would’ve known
His poor tired soul began to appear on his face
His heart numb from losing the one love that who with, his life had begun
Now it was his time to start, for in his heart, he knew……
They wouldn’t be far apart.
Dedicated to the memory of my Grandparents
William Lee Neeland Sr. 02/22/27 – 07/10/04
Pauline Sue Neeland 07/27/46 - 12/24/03
with all my love, #2
Copyright © Tonya Jones | Year Posted 2014
My roots are were love begins gram paw was my best friend
Always loving and caring for me till the end
We always talk loved an shared to each other everything
As I walk to the stone that bears his name it's only a small reminder
Of his love he showed an the tear that I shed from pain
We were best of all friends never new till the end
He showed me everything I no pleas lord send me to heaven so I can see him agin
I grew up on a farm that was his whenever I needed to cry he lint his arm
Never backing down from me when I did right or wrong alway their
Showing me what life should be he was my true friend even past the end
I love you papaw till we meet agin my gram-paw and best friend
Copyright © Timothy Kegley | Year Posted 2014
Allen “Gene” Claibourn
Grandpa showed me the way to
get things done and how to do
them right, he showed me how
to make a knot but i could
never get it quite as tight. He
showed me how to splice a
board to support a shaky beam,
he taught me how to get that
row boat easily upstream. He
showed me how to be polite
and to act with dignity, showed
me that respect and honor go
one and one with common
courtesy. He told me to have
Pride and honor in all the work
I do, do it right the first time
and it will surely repay you.
You have to sacrifice in life to
get the things you want, keep
your wants last put your family
out in front . Always take two
steps back before that one
ahead, don't stress about
material things you can't take
them when your dead. I only
started realizing how right he
was as I grew into a man,our
lives pass by so fast like air
through his homemade blower
fan. I wish I had just one more
week with him or even just one
day, maybe do his metal runs,
junk a car and maybe hear him
say, I had that once "took exlax
"then adjust his hat with his
thumb and index finger, look at
someone smile shake his head
and say "humdinger", maybe
hear him whistle an old tune
that I'd never heard, sit on the
porch in the morning with him
while he mimicked every bird,
go trim some trees, cut some
weeds, maybe dig some more,
the list of things to do never
shortened that's one thing I
know for sure ! He was a family
man who knew what life was all
about, he worked hard so his
family wouldn't have to go
without. He helped and helped
oh yeah and then he helped
some more, never turned his
back, wide open is how he kept
his door. Your hungry then
come eat we have plenty is
what he'd say, then give
someone his money for the bill
they couldn't pay. But most of
all the greatest thing my
grandpa's ever done, was ask
my Grandma Shirley if she
would be the one? I don't know
exactly how they met or where
they went on their first date,
but I know one thing for sure
this was no accident a Love like
this is Fate. I guess I
underestimated the power
LOVE can hold, I witnessed it
recently it was worth more
than any amount of Gold.
Grandpa loved You Grandma he
fought so very hard to stay, he
knew he'd get one more Eskimo
kiss if he could make it just one
more day. I'm telling you first
hand at night he laid there so
very still, but when you walked
into the room magic is all that
u could feel. I know he's up in
heaven driving through a small
ol country town, looking for the
perfect place to settle his family
down, I'm sure it'll be near
some water a quiet place where
the view is really nice, he'll
gather up those with him and
start building the second
Claibourn's Paradise. He'll have
a big jug of water filled with ice
to the brim, smiling and
working with loved ones all
surrounding him. No more pain
no more strain, no more clear
plastic pill dividers, now he's
relaxing working a crossword or
showing people how to make
those paper airplane gliders. He
loved his kids so much
endlessly I'd say, he tried his
best to be there even on the
darkest day. I could go on and
on about my Grandpa there's
so much more to say, these are
only my thoughts imagine the
countless others in this room
today. I Love you Grandpa,
Grandpolio and thank you for
being you, I hope one day I can
be a legend to my family too.
See ya when u get there....
Love ya Grandpa,
Copyright © Neil Thirstrup | Year Posted 2013
As i sit here and reminisce of my
joyful times as a kid I think of how
big your Heart was and all the
Knowledge you give.
While under your care no
recreational landmark was far you
took Me everywhere, From Toa Alta
to San Juan or El Morro to Dorado I
can still feel the Oceans Water, smell
Coconuts in the Air even hear an old
Man playing the Bongo.
Even if I was bad an 8 year old
Tornado nightmare you never laid a
Hand on Me, Instead you gave Me
the Parental stare in return I would
say ok Abuelito I'll be good I swear.
Many Years have passed since your
relocation to Heaven above, In my
Soul my Heart and my thoughts you
are far from gone.
I wish you didn't have to leave the
world so soon but God needed a
General to guide his Platoon, You
were a Leader and adored by many
getting to Know You and meet You
was a blessing.
You played a big role in my Life you
solid Heart of Gold, Until the Day that
I age to be to old, Forever in your
Honor I shall be proud to be a
By : Shawn Muñoz
Copyright © Shawn Munoz | Year Posted 2013
On the mountain top
Old grandpa is making his gin again
He presses the corn to fill the pot.
All the way to the top.
The bottles they rattle with the wind just waiting for that gin.
Grandpa he tastes with delight.
Saying it will be gin again before night.
The smell fills the air that might bring the law.
Grandpa is all most drunk.He stumbles and yells
It's Gin again
Copyright © Harold Hunt sr | Year Posted 2014
Pops when you was first diagnosed I was in disbelief,
The cancer that they found made it hard to breathe.
An endless beacon of strength kept you fighting each day,
Only to watch you fade before death took you away.
A year later, still can’t believe you are gone,
As I continue reciting the lyrics to your favorite song.
My greatest fear came true the day you passed away,
Now I know it’s that I’ll never see you again.
I reminisce over our silent conversations,
And the deficit in I Love You’s,
But revel in the life that carries on in your little osito
Ese cabron has a piece of grandpa’s heart.
My only regret is that on this day
My tears won’t reach your grave
So grab a beer, pull up a chair,
I hope you have front row seats to hear Freddie sing today.
Copyright © Robert Roy | Year Posted 2017
Down from the
His little cottage.
I looked all around me hoping to find any traces of
Jeremy's presence, but
Katherine had been thorough and
Nothing, to remember him by.
Out of the corner of my eye a
Purple flag flapped outside the
Quietly warning us of the
Storm that had
Threatened the lot of
Very slowly I
Worked my way to the window and
Xamined the sky outside,
Yawning for lack of
Copyright © Timothy Goetsch | Year Posted 2014
As I rush past the dastardly faces of those in pain,
I begin to ponder if it were possible to die here,
Surrounded by disease and loneliness the decrepit weep under those in control,
There daily dose of detrimental disruption,
The toxins streaming through their inadequate veins,
I slowly emerge from the empty corridor,
Hearing the woeful cries of those who are whining,
I have reached his bedside,
He looks up at me in such a way that cannot be compared,
I place my frigid hand upon his,
And I feel no warmth just the mulled sense of death in the air,
I glace at the tubes running from his weakened limbs,
His ever-growing fear racing through his diminished heart,
“Look after your mother, Noah”
A frail voice is heard,
I seek remorse from the dying man’s eyes,
How could I possible fill the leeway this man has kept between himself and my mother,
He is a constant trustee to my mother,
And a shoulder to bawl upon,
He himself knows he is approaching the inevitable,
His eyes wonder around one last time seeking a sense of fulfilment,
They soon lock on to my youthful eyes,
The diminishing hazel stained irises are slowly weltering away,
Along with my Gramps silver lined soul,
“Can you still have last words even though you are someone that isn’t well known?”
I chuckle with a teardrop flowing down my caressed cheek bone,
His hand lifts to my cherub like cheeks,
A final stroke of my now blessed face,
Only now do I notice the continuous beeps of machines is no more,
Just a flat line of sorrow.
Copyright © tom joseph | Year Posted 2017
The sheen has left his pan,
He reminds me of my grandfather,
He died years back in rustic rural,
I was not there to mourn him,
I was on the run;
He had style than this
Wrinkled and darkened by ideologies,
Cruel to the masses,
A fist in the air,
A mob of hyenas surround him,
To feast on him,
He calls it allegiance.
In his old age, I wonder
If he smells good,or bathes enough
To run this jewel;
Mother could not bathe herself
When she died;
She was young,
This is an old thug.
Copyright © Fungayi Elias Ndhlovu | Year Posted 2017