Saturday, 23 January 2016

The Passing of Storm Frank

Grandad, I remember those special times
like milk-rounds protecting you from parking fines,
screaming at the warden to leave you alone
in my youth, not knowing you could park on double lines.

Grandad, I remember how you asked about the scores
as you helped me close the milking barn doors,
both bemoaning the demise of glory days past
ever hard-working as you complete your chores.

Grandad, I remember a childhood playground from your farm
knowing that I could come to no harm,
a break from play with biscuits and pop
whilst listening in wonder to your unique charm.

Grandad, I remember how you displayed your pride
for how your family have all followed your lead and tried
and the way you have been such a influence on the girls
we all feel your wonderful warmth inside.

Grandad, I've learned how each moment that passes
is an excuse for laughter and I'll pass that to my classes,
there's rarely a serious moment that can't be made light
so I will see you when I get my glasses.

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