My Grandfather

Written for "A Tribute to our Parents/Grandparents" Contest (Tate Morgan) Thanks for the motivation Tate, been wanting to do this for a while.

The lines upon his thin weathered face

A roadmap of his hard life.

His formal education was brief

His mind was sharp as a knife.

But in bushmanship and parenthood

He was the top of the class,

Then from the college of real hard knocks

With straight honors he did pass.

.

His poker face gave nothing away

But with his eyes he smiled.

I saw it each time he greeted me

The love of his first grandchild.

He'd lift me high up into the air

And sat me on his shoulder.

Childhood memories ever more precious

The more that I grow older.

 

I Lived with him for several years

From near the age of seven.

Our hearts were laden with sorrow then,

My  mother gone to heaven.

For him the loss of his first born child

Maybe forged from grief our bond.

I felt that in my grandfather’s house

Was where I truly belonged.

 

I followed his every single step

It just seemed so right somehow.

We split the kindling and lit the stove,

Gathered eggs and milked the cow.

Together we worked in his garden

Where he turned the sod with ease,

He grew rows and rows of vegetables

And we'd share those fresh picked peas.

 

When he spoke it was in a mumble

And he barely moved his lips.

But it paid to listen very hard

Coz his wit was dry as chips.

He'd often slip in a funny line

Without a break in his pace.

Like 'Cut a hole in the seat of your pants

To keep the flies off your face.'

 

He told you straight what was on his mind

No time for etiquette rules.

Social graces were never his strength

And he had no time for fools.

'I'm not going to her funeral',

One occasion he did shout.

'Best bury that old b***h facing down

To ensure that she can't scratch out.'

 

Still very close in my teenage years.

We'd talk the hours away.

I was always keen to learn from him

And about his Bushman's way.

He taught me as much as I could learn

And ignited my bushman's spark.

A crack shot with his trusty rifle

He usually found his mark.

.

Those memories of rabbit hunting

The wasted bullets were few.

If less rabbits got than bullets shot

He'd ask 'where's the other two?'

And if you went for that real long shot,

A mere spec  in your rifle sight.

He'd not give you credit for the kill

And just say it had 'died of fright'.

 

His front yard was always manicured,

Each plant grew how it was meant.

Lavender bush along every path

Filling the air with it's scent.

And still to this day the slightest whiff

Of lavender in the air,

I am taken right back to his front yard

And I'll see him standing there.

 

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

The fact you have such warm and wonderful memories of your grandfather is touching. I could picture his smiling eyes and see him carrying you on his shoulders. You've touched on all the senses here....the smell of lavendar, the sound of his rifle, the sight of his manicured lawn. A heartfelt tribute to your grandfather. Good rhyming! Lydi**

[Keith]

Thank you Lydia, your kind words are appreciated, especially from such a talented writer as yourself.

[AmandaN]

What a wonderful tribute and a pleasure to read,thanks!

[Keith]

Thank you Amanda, Glad you dropped in.

[Tom]

Tremendous ! You have paid your late grandfather the highest accolades with this amazing, warm and humourous eulogy to his memory! Even more than a grandfather to grandson relationship, you two were soul-mates and who wouldn't be envious of you with a grand-dad like that ! ( I for one )

A super poem, enjoyed this very much !

[Keith]

Thank you very much Tom, I appreciate your kind review.

[Tom]

The pleasure was mine!

[Relic]

What an excellent with that flows from beginning to end. Hard workers like your grandfather are a treasure and the pride of a family. He sounded like a great man and this poem is a great and worthy tribute. 100 from me. Good luck.

[Keith]

Thanks very much Relic, particularly appreciated from one as talented as yourself. I have just read another half dozen of your poems, all excellent, I can see why you receive hundreds of reviews.

[Relic]

I appreciate that Keith. Hundreds? I was never concerned with counting. haha.

[Relic]

Oh, and you're welcome. :)

[Leslie Philibert]

Keith writes excellent narrative poetry. This is very good.

[Keith]

Thank you for reading Leslie ...and the kind review.

[Pryde Foltz]

Very nice. Keith. You were fortunate.

[Keith]

Yes I was indeed. Thank you for reading Pryde.

[S.L.H]

A very well constructed piece, Kieth. You painted a very honest and emotive picture of your grandfather, and I can't help but felt like I was included in the history as I read along. Engaging. All the best with the competition entry. Great stuff.

[Keith]

Thanks Stuart, he was a character and the problem what what to leave out. Thanks for taking the time to read,

[A. Matthew Greenia]

This piece emanates love, respect, and a twinge of loss and even humour. A great narrative that places the reader right next to the narrator. I can see your grandfather and although I've never met him your poem makes me miss him. Well done.

[Keith]

Thanks very much for calling in, your kind words are appreciated.

[Nia Hope]

This a very sweet poem you make me wish I could have met him :)

[Keith]

Thank you Ankara, your kind words are appreciated.

[David Lewis Paget]

A great piece of nostalgia, in which you were extremely fortunate. My own paternal grandfather died eight years before I was born, and I never met the other one, as my mother ran away from home at fifteen, and never went back. A couple of very funny lines here:
'Best bury that old b***h facing down
To ensure that she can't scratch out.'
It certainly sounds like he was a bit of a character.
Costructionwise, your rhyme is good, but your metre somewhat halting in places. That could be easily fixed however, in most case by dropping an unnecessary word, or otherwise rearranging the line. Kudo's.

[Keith]

Thank you so much David, I will put some time into smoothing that out. Yes I was indeed lucky, my mum was his oldest so I got many years with him. Love being a grandfather myself, its a great gig.