looking at this picture
Not color, but black and white,
Of my granny and gramps
Posing with smiles so bright.
Their house in the background,
Their dog not out of their sight.
Granny's a head taller,
Gramps didn't care much about height.
Wearing their sweaters
Buttoned up so tight.
Cane in their hands
Bad legs were their plight.
Eye glasses sitting on their nose
Magnifying their eyes so bright.
One of the last pictures taken
Before Gramps left on his homeward flight.
Leaving Granny alone in their house
Missing her beloved knight
6 comments:
Your poem is so sweet, Walk. You're a poet and we all know it.
Thank you dear friend. If you ask a real poet they would say that I'm a hack. That's OK, I'll hack away every now and then.
A real poet would probably write things we can't even understand. To heck with them if they say you're a hack.
I prefer your poetry any old day.
I just got through posting on almost exactly the same topic. Great minds, no?
Fool, thanks for visiting my humble blog. The rose ending was definitely a misty eyed ending. Your writing rocks.
What a sweet, sentimental poem, Walk!
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