I gave you my words, my turns of phrase,

Those I’d accumulated over many, long days.

Now, you use those same words back to me,

In stilted lexicography, in dated old vocabulary!

 

A nasty fall, he scrapes his knee.

“Don’t worry, grandad, I’ll be fine!”

“Want to go for a walk, William?”

“Not yet, grandad.  Maybe…. Later.”

 

Words to use but, maybe, later discard

To avoid the mockery of the cruel schoolyard.

It’s fine to be clever and prove that you can,

But don’t let them think you a little old man!

 

“Grandad! I need an ice lolly!”

William tells me, rubbing his belly

His strategy is so plain to see.

"Just one more ice lolly, grandad,

Then it’s over, finish!”

I stand and watch the ice lolly vanish.

 

“Cm’on, grandad, turn on the telly!”

 

In the garden, playing cricket,

“That’s not a bad shot grandad!”

(I’ll thank you not to patronise me!)

 

Another day, I bring him round for tea.

He stops, stock still, in the doorway.

“Have you got a present for me?”

Thinking quickly, I conjure up a bar.

“That’s not a present, it’s only chocolate.

I need a present I can play with.”

“Play with your chocolate then!”

(Cheeky beggar!)

 

After tea we act out stories,

“You can be the big, bad wolf, grandad!

You’re the baddie and I’m the goodie!”

Naturally, William will always win.

“Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!

I will not let you in!”

 

I needn’t really worry, William.

As time moves on, you’ll own a phone

You’ll then learn all the latest chat,

Using language of your very own.

I have no doubt about that!