Poetry: “For Grandpa” | Vera Bonny

Wisdom was real soft spoken
Always offering a bit of an advice token
He was a statue of meekness
Goodness was his only weakness
At his feet, gracefulness drank
Outgrew folly and all its pranks
Under the tree he mended souls
Sticks did tricks as mini poles
I watched and learnt
His rules never bent
His mouth knew how to hold water
Each sip, his mood caters
His palms matched the calabash
And the secret to counting cash
I never heard one crash
He drank from skulls
When his cocked gun calls
The ridge between his eyes knew spectacles
He fashioned himself among oracles
Smarter version of all old king Cole
Till the trumpet of death blew and stole
May his spirit reincarnate again
A new generation has his wits to gain
So this loss returns to us
A gift offering for our house.

©Vera Bonny 2017