A mop of white hair
Over a young old face
A pair of laughing eyes
Locked in a different place
As he tells his grandchildren
Tales of his youth
Each one guaranteed to be
Ninety percent of the truth.
He talks of a million years ago,
Really just nineteen sixty two,
And they look at him in
The way grandchildren do.
He tells of his adventures
Of his scraps and scrapes
Marvelling in his mind
At some of his escapes.
A grand daughter says
You’re telling fibs I think
He gives her a smile
And then a slow wink.
They all give him a hug
When it’s time for them to go
And he experiences thoughts
That only Granddads know.
He thinks of the joy, pains
And sadness they may know
And hopes they’ll all learn
As they mature and grow.
Life is such a gamble
And it’s a privilege to see
The continuance of his line
And how it’s going to be
Granddads Little Girl
This first day of the New Year,
May I whisper something in your ear
To wish you a very bright life,
As a baby, as a child, as a wife,
To tell you to stick this in your mind,
Be wise, be generous, be kind,
Be good with your father and mother,
Be always devoted to each other,
Be nice to any human creature,
Be Our Lord’s soul, the living picture,
Be friends to animals and birds,
And make them become your friends,
Be in love with Justice,
Be the enemy of vice,
Have no other than truth for passion,
For your life’s every inspiration,
Thus you should make yourself,
Worthy and proud of your Nation.
PS this is the original letter with my grand-fathers poem he wrote for me a couple of years after I was born.
I
Often
Think about
The memories
I had at grandparents home on weekends
My grandfather had such a big kind heart
I could not wait
To jump in
His huge
Arms
Contest: Double Tetractys 6
Sponsor: Eve Roper
11/16/2020
Photo # 4
A Granddads love will never end, it does not yield it does not bend.
Through time of good and times of bad they can rely on Granddad.
He is always there to mend their toys to make them laugh and bring them joy.
He reads them stories and plays their games and never ever mixes up their names.
A Granddads love will never end he is not just Granddad he is their best friend.
In my quiet times I often try,
To remember places I've been.
To recall folk I have passed by,
And sights that I have seen.
There is nothing wrong with my mind,
Sometimes my memory is quite refined.
I think it's filled over many a year,
With so much junk, nothing seems clear.
So, I made up my mind to write it all down,
To recall it all caused me to frown
It started like I was in the dark,
A memory flared, I was in the park.
That day in the park was just the lever,
I found my mind was as good as ever.
Tho' times and places got out of line,
I wrote it all down, now wasn't I clever!
I'm nearly at the end of my story,
A journey I'm glad that I took.
For my grandsons to read in years to come,
I'll call it Granddads Book.
© Dave Timperley 2012.
In South Africa during the Boer War
Granddad got the key of the door
In France during World War 1
He lay wounded when the day was done
He could have met a very bloody end
But for the bravery of his friend
So he lived to fight another day instead
And died an old man in his own bed
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