The joy of a grandson

May 4, 2009
More by this author
His silvery beard so smooth,
Dyed by white cigars' breath,
Smells lovelier than my Mother
To our eyes and souls.

The visible wisdoms,
Sounder than angels' haikus,
Are his breathing wrinkles,
Wetting me as advancing waves!

His mouths always singing,
His eyes ever smiling!
I, my age proudly forgetting,
Am his only grandchild:

The son of his only child.
Oh, kiss me, my grandfather,
Hug me like Heavenly Father,
Till you melt into the purer
Time's one eternal tear!

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback