Musical inclined as a kid at 15
Played a Portable Organ which my Grand Dad brought me
Listening next door was my neighbor hearing of my organ playing
She was a Musical Teacher at a School, but also being a Professional Opera Singer, and I attended numerous of her performances at a Downtown Opera House
I was later introduced to a Professional Male Concert Pianist
I learned the fundamentals of the Piano Ivories keys taught by the Concert Pianist
The Female Opera Singer also gave me voice lessons included
All this was happening when I was a teenager at 15
I play the piano by ear
Musical background was beginning to form
At the present, I haven’t played any organ and piano in quite a while
I am sure it would come back
I am advising you to get your ear plugs as what you might hear won’t be secure
Better yet, run for your life
Musical pattern that was a beginning
My musical past
Time that went fast
Musical blend that didn’t continue nor last.
When you died
We wept and cried
So much you left
Inside unsaid
Buried with
Unexpressed regrets
Nothing to do with
Your grand children
You adored us
Unconditionally
Our youth our zest
Our innocence
No judging ever
Pure candid love
We gathered
When it happened
And I was the one
Who insisted
I’d sleep in your bed
I felt so privileged
Never doubting
You had visited
And kissed my head
Watched over me
Nestled there tiny in
The palm of your hand
Keeping me warm
All night till morn
AP: 1st place 2021
They carried on discreetly
pretending not to care
then on the day of the wedding
none of the family were there
mum cried in the kitchen
the news was much to bear
dad had lost his temper
his choice words hung in the air
the household was in crisis
with lots of opinions to share
the summit in the sitting room
agreed it wasn't fair
"nothing good will come of this"
said grand-dad from his chair,
while grandma simply said it was,
"a hole in the wall affair".
Smile
Grand Dad
b l i s s f u l l y
exudes with cheer
assures his favour for heritage grants.
Bearing kids of his children as treasures
Dad so delights
thanking God
for blest
gifts.
November 23, 2020
3rd place, "Double Tetractys 6" Contest
Sponsored by Eve Roper; judged on 12/4/2020.
Belamite Howling at the Moon
A belamite sat drinking
In a bar
On the dangerous left side
Of the city of Angels
By the rail road tracks
In the dark dangerous part of town
Where the police fear to tread
And the tourists never came
Twenty drinks too sober
The belamite drank
His way to hell
One bourbon, one scotch
And one beer
Drinking alone
With his buddies
Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, old grand dad
Mr. Bullit, Jonny Walker
He looked up
At the naked lady
Dancing with an attitude
That could kill an elephant
In heat
He stumbles out
Looks at the blood red blue moon
And begins howling at the moon
Liked an escaped banshee
From the depths of hell
The other drunken inmates
From that bar of evilness
Joined him in howling
at the rabbit in the moon
I remember the joy of
the weekends, no school
No home work, feeling good
I have memories of my family
Sitting around the table
On a Friday, eating fried fish
and grits or fried bologna
After my grandma went
Fishng and caught a
Mess of fish for dinner
Or when my grandparents
Had to much to drink an
Ended up rolling around
On the floor, tussling
I can laugh about it now
Or the time we were at
A cookout, my grand-dad
Was watching the barbecue
Chicken on the grill so, hard
He felled, face first in the dirt
The man who was grilling said,
There's plenty of chicken left
Or the time my Sister cooked
Her very first turkey an
It wasn't done on the inside
She cried
Those are the fun memories
I'll never forget
Unkept thoughts would not likely be
told to the forest but only to one tree
Standing taller that all the rest
Is the one tree I like the best.
That tree was the oldest of the ones around
Their limbs and branches spread wide and sound
Giving shelter to what lies below
Flowers come alive and more will follow.
This great big tree so straight and tall
Has its special place next to the corner stonewall
Provided a stage for the birds that sung
Granddaddy watches over all, especially the young.
I see the forest this tree lives within
Still more to come where life will begin
Maple and oak, birch and walnut with pine mixed in
Many generations spotted that are next of kin.
My thoughts go to old grand dad
To praise him for his loyalty to all that he had
This family of trees manifests such beauty to see
Most of all, the old elm is that one grand tree.
My dad was renown as a cad
Which made my love life rather sad
Would I know when I kissed her
That she was my sister?
If not, he would be a grand dad!
When you died
We wept and cried
So much you left
Inside unsaid
Buried with
Unexpressed regrets
Nothing to do with
Your grand children
You adored us
Unconditionally
Our youth our zest
Our innocence
No judging ever
Pure candid love
We gathered
When it happened
And I was the one
Who insisted
I’d sleep in your bed
I felt so privileged
Never doubting
You had visited
And kissed my head
Watched over me
Nestled there tiny in
The palm of your hand
Keeping me warm
All night till morn
AP: Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2021
Limerick : Once a Lonely Grand-Dad in a Log-Jam
Once a Lonely Grand-Dad in a Log-Jam
Paid an urgent visit to a Grande-Dame*
She lifted the stuck log
During Pea-Souper smog
Damn ! Got carried down Grand-Dad Rapids – Wham !
* Dame : pronounced as in French
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Dance Macabre
Soon we all will all look
30 when we die,
which will please undertakers?
Death will be called a voyage,
on an everlasting cruise ship
and the purser will send
festive cards
from romantic ports.
No, grand dad is not dead he is resting
and he is wearing makeup because he is going on
a passenger ship to be dancing partner
for old ladies.
It sat under the old Cottonwood tree in the shade
Before the house had "inside plumbing or running water"
Not the best, but all we had
Family owned and made
In the summer, it got a little hotter
Sometimes, you had to wait forever on old Grand Dad
In those days Castor Oil, was the sure cure for constipation
That was my grand mother's remedy, if that did not kill you, then came prune juice
I stayed skinny for many years
A running from her in the outhouse direction
She always kept us youngins loose
As a little kids she was one of my biggest fears
The fancy folks that lived up the road, had a "two seater"
I never could understand that at all
We just had the old standard one
Never was in one with a heater
A time for serenity, not a town meeting hall
Sometimes a place to hide from the Sun
Black Widow Spiders like to hide on the under side
Make sure you looked before you ever sat down
Or stomp them as they ran across the floor
Then one day we found our new pride
Got "inside plumbing and running water", we were uptown
Our outhouse never had a crescent moon on the it's front door
Once again driving down
this old country road,
days gone by,
memories rolling back
into my mind,
stories my grand dad
told me of this old
country road.
Putting along in his
old roadster, stopping,
for gas 19 cents a gallon,
bring back those good ole days.
Hot day like this one,
bottle of coke only
5 cents, he throws down,
rolling hills, everywhere
the eye can see,
trees reahing so high,
into the beautiful sky.
Him and I take all
of this in, to store
in our minds and heart,
as we depart this old
country road, I truly
cherish those memories
of days long ago.
wrote 1-29-07
I’ve seen so much
In the few years I’ve been here
Some things witnessed
Are my deepest fears
Not too long ago
On July 26th of 2004
Two great friends
That I greatly adore
The first on this day
Was my dear ol’ grand dad
The other was a kid
And this kid had
A bright promising future
Just out of high school
And he always seemed
Oh so cool
Thing happen
Unpredictable and unjust
Yet push on
Everyone must
What is done is done
The past we cannot change
And at time this causes our lives
To be rearranged
Honor their memory with laughter
Do not dwell on the grief
Just move on
You must believe
I have lost men
Whose shoes I could only hope to fill
Some had passed
Because they were incurably ill
Some have died
Before their time
Passing in the very beginning
Of their promising prime
What makes a real man
Is not how he starts things
It is the kind of finish
He shall bring
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