PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This is a story bout a grandpa and grandson

I walked proudly with him when I was young.

I'd try to act older than a little kid

walkin and talkin just like he did.



Well I never asked for anything more than his love

and he'd put his arm around me and call me Bub.

Under blue skies where white clouds sailed

he'd spin silk and magic into his tales.



We had fishin poles, secret holes, and worms in pails

we'd scout old wood roads huntin whitetail.

I heard campfire stories and I learned the truth

about the great war that took Grandpa's youth.



He'd say...rememeber son....

There's always someone out there givin out advice

take care how you listen they might not have it right.

And all the mighty leaders tellin people what to do

are visions from the past where hell was set to rule.

So pray for the time man won't kill his fellow man

keep the faith for peace and stay close to the land.



And I'd sit there beaming by the campfire flame

while an old hoot owl was calling out his name.

And I'd think to myself we'll be doin this forever

cause Grandpa fought to make the world better.



We strolled through Autumn leaves and Summer grass

and we talked of older times fillin out his past.

We'd hike in the rain and watch shiny Otters playin

with every day the same like forever was there waiting.



When the golden years ended the golden bowl collapsed

I was never really ready and the hurt knocked me flat.

And in the grief and pain I thought that I'd die

but the memory of his tender words kept my soul alive.



There's always someone out there givin out advice

take care how you listen they might not have it right.

And all the mighty leaders tellin people what to do

are visions from the past where hell was set to rule.

So pray for the time man won't kill his fellow man

keep the faith for peace and stay close to the land.