Gramps


There’s a grit to

this man of God.

That strikes no

person but prods.


For the stubborn,

a champion king

who with hands he

could do anything.


Construct a house,

build a strong bed.

Fish the streams he

did so to keep fed.


Found a bottle for

the battle it inside,

crept in the dark it

lurked for to hide.


Blood the same in

life and stubborn.

I knew a man grew

I did him discover.


As a man of worth,

a heart to survive to

provide for a life for

children he had two.


I knew he loved a lot

to have joy and bliss,

in the grit and grind

a mind to be amidst.


Travel the road young

man grab you a ride.

Walk, plow, build to

grow on horses high.


To pluck the apples

from trees next fields

where horses grazed

and dogs they heeled.


Man of the earth a

story or two was a

laugh or occassion he

as if a God he gave.


Me,Gramps and my sister after fishing. 1989

4 Comments Add yours

  1. kristianw84 says:

    Such a lovely tribute! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. eob2 says:

    They live on in memories of the heart. 💜

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s