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 !