Grandpa's plot

Grandpa in his weather-worn woolly
worked religiously along the pews.
The penitent peas pushed into place
amidst the soul-saved smell of soil.
He patiently ploughed the errant earth;
dispersed his peace between the rows
and within the still, worshipful silence
only the good were allowed to grow.
That sacred sanctuary stayed undisturbed
but for pardoned pilgrims; the common birds.

My own allotment I now diligently tend,
and in the quiet of that wild field
will know my grandad's steady hand
rests here within this loamy land.

 

Note on this one

Grandpa died 20 plus years ago, and in little things it amazes me how much I'm still his granddaughter.  I use his phrases, smile at his many jokes, remember his Quakerism, his sense of peace and quiet amusement, and his love of attaching things firmly with glue and screws. In my own content and solitary Sunday digging I remember him with every robin that perches on the compost bin and watches me, alert for unearthed worms.

◄ Domestics

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Comments

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Glyn Pope

Fri 20th Apr 2012 14:04

You read a lot of poems on this site, the good the bad and the indifferent. And then something hits you. I am so pleased you made a comment on my poem, or I would have never looked at yours. (That's the one weakness, and positive point, there are too many poems here to read.)This is not only a lovely poem but clever. It tells of Grandpa in his garden and place of worship. Probably as a quaker how he lived his life. I shall read some more of your poems.

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Laura Taylor

Mon 12th Mar 2012 13:52

Love it - am a sucker for writing which recognises and praises man's connection to the earth, and your Grandad sounds a top fella. A Quaker too eh? Seriously sound people, and Quakerism is something that I keep meaning to look more into

A fine tribute

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John Coopey

Sun 11th Mar 2012 23:00

Me too, Alison.
Just seen the first tips of my onion sets coming up.

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Dave Bradley

Sun 11th Mar 2012 21:41

A beautiful poem. I have a new garden allotment and can very much connect with how you relish the garden and cherish your Grandpa's memory.

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Yvonne Brunton

Sun 11th Mar 2012 21:00

Iloved this too. It brought back similar memories of going to my Granddad's allotment when I was little, which is probably where I got my love of gardening.The smell of home grown tomatoes always takes me straight back to his greenhouse. Thanks for the memories.

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M.C. Newberry

Sun 11th Mar 2012 15:39

A heart-felt evocation of faith, love and the
working of the soil. Admirable.

<Deleted User> (10123)

Sun 11th Mar 2012 15:11

Beautiful,
Thanks for sharing this one.
Loved it lorry-loads.
Ta much,
Nick

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