Tutorial
Account
Forums
Monday, April 29, 2013
Can I Come With You Grandpop??
Category: Poetry/LyricsCan I Come With You Grandpop??
It’s your Birthday soon Grandpop,
The first you will miss since you were born.
They didn’t tell me you were dying, Grandpop
And my heart is so badly torn.
I am sitting here alone on what I thought would be sand,
But stones is all I feel, because your beach at Tobruk made you stand.
The sun is almost gone now; it is dancing on the skyline,
The seas choppy crests are like your ponies rolling through time.
Is that what you saw among the war and strife?
Were you comforted by thinking of Grandma; your wife?
The moon is on the rise, taking from the sun,
Among ponies candles flicker, adding to the fun.
The pearls are shining from the shells, all along the shore.
But I know the shells that you saw were only of war’s whore.
The lap lapping of the sea is calmly spraying my face,
And I wonder if you felt this to escape war’s pace.
I know you sat at times and listened to the roar,
Of that mighty sea and that terrible, miserable war.
Did you ever think of swimming as far as your arms would take you,
Then sink to the depths of the beautiful, sweet warm blue?
I am really on the grass, and the time has come to pass,
That my dream of you has ended, until it next will cast,
A smile on your face and strong and mighty arms around me
And I will remember you, with the love only you can see.
I am missing you Grandpop, I can feel you sigh and say adieu
Can I Grandpop swim, and come along with you?
22 September 1974
My Maternal Grandfather a Veteran of the Siege of Tobruk by General Rommel WWII
Back to VotingOld Comments
I have been here since the beginning, back when I had 2 kids and 1 infant instead of a grown kid, 2 teens, an infant, and a grandchild. Back when this place was called We-Rank. I named it Litmocracy, in fact. I shit you not when I say this has to be the best metered piece of poetry I’ve ever read on this site, and that is saying something, because some damned fine writers and some damned fine pieces have come through here. This stanza,
“Did you ever think of swimming as far as your arms would take you,
Then sink to the depths of the beautiful, sweet warm blue?”
Sent chills up my spine. My Grandfather was a gunner in the bubble of a B-17. He flew over 100 missions (before they instituted that 50 mission rule) and served 4 years, flying in the roughest raid over Poland on D-Day. I loved him, and this reminded me of him. Great job, and thanks.
Appreciate your comments deminizer, and glad you enjoyed. I understand about you Grandfather too.I often wonder how anyone survived those times. When I wrote this piece I knew nothing of rythm, metre and the other tools of poetry, so that ‘is’ some compliment. I have trouble still with that aspect of this piece, but am glad someone else can see and feel it.