Grandpa

I remember Grandpa,
With whiskers on his chin.
And the way he sent his searching eyes,
They always formed a grin.

The way he snickered now and then,
Helped you to melt the freeze.
And the friendly gestures that he made,
Made you to be...at ease.

He talked about the Civil-war,
With soldiers passing through.
With musket on their shoulder,
Dressed up in navy-blue.

He talked about his corn-patch,
How they could have their fill.
When he would load it on a mule,
And take it to the mill.

My Grandpa said my Grandma was...
And then he'd sort of laugh.
That she was like the golden corn,
And he was only chaff.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

(Figure made by Leslie Miller with clay)