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2010 Poetry Theme Challenges

#08 Grandparents




As a few know at the beginning of the NaPoMo I found out I am going become a Grandparent in July. Yes I know I am so not old enough yet but there it is, I will be a biker rock chick granny. So to the challenge poems about being a grandparent, about grandparents. I want to know what it is like.

Happy Quilling!

Jem
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Grandparents



Anon

Brown Photographs


Divena Collins

My Italian Nonna


Ivor Hog

Family Tradition


Ryter Roethicle

Jessica
Never Forgotten

Nia Wynne

Times Remembered



Anon

Brown Photographs

This was given to me many years ago by my father. I came
across it the other day and it still has the same effect on me.


I've sat on her knee for many an hour
At brown photographs we'd be looking
And she'd tell of the times she'd had in her life
Some good, some tears and some laughing.

And she'd tell of the times when life was so grand
When the mills were all weaving and spinning
In her bonnet and shawl at the start of each day
To work, then her play, then her courting.

Her day it was long, most of them hard
They didn't pay much for her working
But when it were done she always came home
To a house that was poor but was loving.

And she lives all alone since my grandfather died
She don't have the same joy of living
But she don't mope around, she's always a smile
Old fashioned advice she'd be giving.

She says time have changed, people have to
Theyíre too busy fighting and grabbing
When she were a lass well they hadn't much cash
But they were never frightened of giving

And my grandfatherís boots still stand by the fire
As if home from the mill he'd be coming
And as evening 'll come you'll find her alone
By the fire her memories living.



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Divena Collins

My Italiano Nonna (EC Variation)

My Italiano Nonna held me on her knee
And told me tales of old from sunny Italy,
She lived upon a mountain in Filignano
With only a donkey to travel to and fro.
Life was pretty hard then for her family,
Knowing no different they lived happily.

Many years later she left her native land
Off to Scotland with emigration planned,
Took her sons with her to start a new life.
Where Poppa took our Momma to be his wife.
They worked very hard cash was in demand,
An ice cream shop they bought and manned.

Momma was from England`s Sussex by the sea
A contortionist on stage before having me
She met our Poppa while she was on a tour,
But she was very young then and felt insecure
They both wed in a place named Gretna Green
She was the prettiest bride they had ever seen.

Then along came my sister, two brothers, and I,
Things got bad, when Poppa made Momma cry,
He turned on Momma and broke her heart
They made up their minds they were better apart,
So then returned to Englands promised shore,
Where we settled down, Momma, and us four.

But now theres no one left here but me,
And a few old pictures of my family,
Memories are golden and remain so clear
To remember times that were oh so dear,
And in my heart will cherish and remain
As I look at their photos all over again.



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Ivor Hog

Family Tradition

I feel a hand touching my hair
but when I look thereís no one there.
And then I settle down to rest
again I felt my hair caressed.
Iíve no idea what it might be.
It seems to mean no harm to me.
Iím wide awake I m not dreaming.
The gentle moonlight softly beaming
through the window of my room,
firmly dispels the twilight gloom
Although thereís nothing I can see,
some thing is caressing me.
It feels somehow familiar
and I recall my Grandmama
Who used to sit beside my bed
and very gently stroke my head.
when I was just a little lad.
A memory both sweet and sad.
I have returned to my old home
back to my roots no more to roam.
Perhaps her spirit lingers here
and that is why I feel no fear.
I felt this old house calling me
insistently and constantly.
Which finally decided me
that this where I ought to be.
It has been in my family
for two and one half centuries.
I think that very probably
my eldest son will follow me.
Just as I followed my own Dad.
If he did not it would be sad.
We are an ancient family
part of the local history.
They say there is a prophecy
and I believe there may well be.
Which says we must come home to die.
That it is true I canít deny.
Nor can I guarantee its true
I leave that question up to you.

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Ryter Roethical

Jessica

Our time together goes by in a blur
Hardly savouring events that occur
Yet we know there is no other way.
Each time I see you, how you have grown
And so different from the babe first known.

Looking I see you have your fathers eyes
The same blue thatís looking at you now.
Youíre growing more beautiful everyday.
In a while youíll hear the young boysí sighs
All wanting to steal you away.


-----

Never Forgotten

1

"Never forget" he said to her,
At the start of their first night together
"My touch will be all you will feel,
My lips, the only ones you will ever know
My taste, the one you will crave for life".

Blindly, as a virgin she reached out to him,
Then again, and again.
Young and yearning, desperate to be loved,
She compromised all she knew
"I will always love you".

2

How could anyone compare to you?
Your hands, your eyes, your sound.
No other could ever be to me
What you are. I swear",
As he went away to the fight.

Many years later, as she lay dying
The echo of that promise was still heard.
As their children gathered to say goodbye
Then listening closely, she heard his voice
A voice she had never forgotten.

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Nia Wynne

Times Remembered

It's time to smell the lilac's sweet scent
Recalling days so pleasantly spent
By the misty lakes shore with grandmother
Standing by my side watching ships forever
Passing through and tooting as they went.

It's time to remember the days of yore
When days were just days and nothing more,
Since then, the fogs have gone and so has she
That gave me every hour of love she could for free,
Laughing, smiling and never closing doors.

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