Claire V. Bogdanos

In homage to my dear grandpa,

I know his grave’s not off too far

But going back won’t help at all

My memory is still enthralled

I was a girl of twenty-five

When grandpa he just up and died

With wrinkled face and gentle eyes

Too late for us to say goodbyes.

Who ever thought that I’d recall

Those yesteryears when I was small

When I was young I used to sit

On grandpa’s lap and rock a bit.

I can remember that old chair

It sat beside the fireplace there

Like some carved wooden rocking thing

With all the joy those mem’ries bring

And when my children were so small

That rocking chair could hold us all.

My grandpa built that rocking chair

With his own hands and love to spare

Now that was very long ago

The time has flown but this I know

All that I am or hoped to be

Are part of my heredity !