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By ten, I tended vast fields of dreams

with schemes of becoming someone, the

details of which were vague, but grand.

My grand pa lived a mile away, a mile

stocked with old memories and new

ones budding into bloom as I found my

way to his book filled rooms. Grandpa

knew my fields, too, and with gentle,

helpful hands, joined me ln irrigating

them with the spectacular fun of

learning and yearning for books that

took me to other lands with other boys

like him with Grandpas of their own,

but different.

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2 comentários

Your grandpa would be proud of you and your poetry, Glen! It prompted me to think of many special times with my Grands. Thank you :)


02 de mai. de 2022

I wish your grandpa could read this moving and playful tribute, he'd love it and honor your quirky, brilliant, unique poetic voice xoxoox

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