Best Grandads Poems
It s only a wrist watch
with a faded leather strap.
With it's gold numbers
a precious possession that's kept in a box.
Shown to the grand kids
His pride and joy.
"But grand dad its only a watch !"
"It is only a watch !", but look what does it say ?.
45 years service to the railway.
My life is engraved on the back of this watch.
I gave of my all my sweat and my blood.
See my grey hair and calloused hands
these are the things I got with the watch.
When I pass on, this watch it will be yours.
hold it close to your heart, as I will be gone.
__
,;'--`:.
// \\
(( __ ))
\\,' `.//
``.__,''
__( )__
_.-'_......_`-._
,'.;::;''''''::`-.`.
/ /:;'' _><: (':,.;') :__|:| |
| |:|--: `' ;==|:| |
: ::: \ / ;:; ;
\ \:\ `..__..' /:/ /
\ \::. ___ .::/ /
`.::::._|/\_..:::;,'
`:.::.`''::.:' SST
_..--''.-- --.`--.._
`._`--...________...--'_,'
``--...______...--''
Comp entry 24102016 old jewellery or just old things
My Grandad wore his leather belt with pride
Lions head buckle he'd polish till it shone
Always said I could have it when he died
His death came and then I felt so alone .
During the D. Day landings on sword beach
Fellow soldier hit in German air raid
A place of safety he just could not reach
But grandad saw him and went to his aid.
After the war he sent Grandad a box
Inside was a belt and note which read
A lions courage and strength of an ox
If you hadn't helped me I'd have been dead.
I look at his belt and courage I see
Feeling honoured that he left it to me.
Written 25th September 2018.
The above verse is a fictional write.
I'm no good in a kitchen but, I can cook stuff all the same
Around here, say "the recipe" and most folks know my name
It hasn't changed in fifty years, and folks still drink it up
I've been making it with my granddad since I was just a pup
I"ve been racing cars through out these woods since before most learn to drive
I've been chased by cops and revenuers, I surprised I'm still alive
The funny thing, they know the route, and I always make the border
Because if they ever caught me, I would just cancel their order
Magic comes from our hard toil
Once it travels through the coil
We cook it slow on a low boil
It's cooked according to old Hoyle
It's magic in a glass
And it'll put you on your ass
In all the years that we've been cooking we've only moved on twice
Not because the cops found us, but because of all the mice
Grandpappy started cooking when the jobs round here dried up
And me, I've been his helper since I was just a pup
Everyone's on credit, we all live on iou's
There's still no jobs around here, there just isn't no good news
But, if folks round here need healing, we've got magic in a jug
Our granddads old elixir is a moonshine mountain hug
Magic comes from our hard toil
Once it travels through the coil
We cook it slow on a low boil
It's cooked according to old Hoyle
It's magic in a glass
And it'll put you on your ass
Grandad's sticks ,Albert and Me
Grandad walks slowly and uses two sticks !
He and Nanny came to see us today
thats me, mummy, daddy and baby scustin ok
grandad still lets me jump and play round him so quick and so rough
then goes off with nanny as slow as they came cos he's had enough !
Then at nursery I spy Albert oh no !
who sometimes me , he pushes and hits
to take my toys and give me no go !
although my clothes are aged four to five
only three years old is the body they hide !
Then there's Ethan thats me
with my curly golden locks, rosy cheeks and smile full of glee
my imagination spurred by a reverands train
my energy and strenght no one can contain
so if you dont mind I'll get back to my game
and just for now use my vigour just being a pain!
If you expect more, come back when i'm four ?
love Grandad
MB 2013
What’s gone wrong with Granddad’s dong, it used to be so long
Once the length of Granddad’s dong made Gran burst into song
His dong would go throughout the night, to Grandma’s sheer delight
And Grandad’s dong and Grandma’s song would brighten up each night
But now when Grandma wants a dong, my granddad grasps his mallet
It’s very old and feels like it’s made from a wooden pallet
He grasps it with both hands and Grandma yells, “Just swing that sucker!
Remind me how you swung it round in your best bib and tucker.”
So Granddad grips it in both hands and swings for all he’s worth
He hopes to get a lengthy dong and not just Grandma’s mirth
Granddad couldn’t tolerate another dong that’s dud
And so he whacks his mallet hard, which makes a dull, flat, thud
But Grandma said, “I see what’s been occurring with your dong,
And why of late your dong has been a little less than long.
A dull dong cant reverberate, a dull dong can’t play long,
It’s no good up against the wall; you should have hung that gong!”
Granddads slippers started to wear,
And then tear,
Until more than a stitch here,
And stitch there,
Would be required, or a new pair,
Needed by the end of the year.
A suitable needle and thread did appear,
And for another year did sit there,
Maybe next year,
I will do the repair,
And another year did disappear,
Without use of needle and thread to repair,
Then the day came,
Shall we put them in the bin out there,
I said no fair,
And searching for needle and thread became a good idea,
Once found under there,
A plan to repair ,
Was whispered in my ear from somewhere,
Not sure where,
First the crater in the toe to work out how to repair,
A thought did appear,
For a bridge to be built there,
What about a suitable piece of torn cloth from that box over there,
To pull the sides into shape to help hide the wear,
Now for the next repair,
Another thought did appear,
Use the holes that are already there,
And now the other slipper and we are finished here,
Oh what a clever grandad I am,
With my slippers now again fit to wear.
For many a year,
Giving my family a chance to eat humble pie here,
As they never thought I could repair,
What they sought to put in the bin out there.
Hooray for grandads everywhere.