Poetry Blogs (grandad)
Grandads old chair is empty now, he gone
People say a lovely man hats off to John
a coal miner in his working years, poor sod
His lungs where damage by when 40 0dd
pit dust rotted his chest and lungs inside
Suffering we watched we could not abide
They sacked him his job he couldn't keep
couldnt catch his breath, nana would weep
he coughed up coal dust from in his chest...
Thursday 23rd January 2020 7:00 pm
The sun bows, outside the window
Clouds don a shade of black.
In a dimly lit side room,
Bulbs flicker. Hope turns its back.
Clock hands stack the seconds.
Eyelids straining with the fear
That in the hollow of my dreams
With the wave of a gloved hand
Under a pristine white sheet.
I trace the wrinkles, map the dimples
Painted upon your fading face.
Until sleep seduces me
Tuesday 27th June 2017 1:50 pm
Strange smelling, mustard brown moth-eaten chair, where Grandad sat on a Sunday afternoon after lamb with all the trimmings.
Like a heaving ancient giant, with his mouth ready to catch flies and glasses knocked to one side, he snores and wheezes, his tongue sissing like a snake.
With a choo choo train I fly around and scream and crash and wallop into everything; as Acti...
Saturday 24th June 2017 5:41 pm