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timothysangel1973

Senior Member

since 2001-12-03

Posts 1725
Never close enough

0 posted 2003-06-16 12:15 PM

Your limbs are so fragile, yet your body stands so strong.
Your notches show your years, your years have been so long.

Time has passes above you, beneath and even around.
But you have withered the years standing silent without a sound.

You have made yourself a home, never planning to move.
Rooting yourself to the earth, making a permanent groove.

Your like the sky, forever constant, always standing in place.
The only thing that changes are the looks upon your face.

What's wrongs Sad Grandfather? For your tears have left a trace.

I hold you in such high respect, for your years are wisdom strong.
What is it that pains your heart? For your worries seem so long.

You must be tired of standing, your limbs weaken with age.
And the story of your life grows weaker with each day and turning page.

Try and smile Sad Grandfather, time will ease your pain.
And these sad looks will wash away, with the next showering rain.

No matter your weariness Sad Grandfather, you'll always stand tall to me.

For I am the little girl under the Weeping Willow Tree.
Copyrights belong to:
Tima Chavis Cooke
April 10th, 1994

If you cant get rid of the skeletons in your closet, you'd best teach them how to dance. George Bernard Shaw

skyshine

Member Elite

since 2002-02-07

Posts 3058
Beneath the northern stars

1 posted 2003-06-16 01:04 PM

Beautiful poem, Tima. How old were you when you wrote this? I noticed that you wrote it quite a while ago so I was just wondering. It's very nicely done! I bet your grandfather loved it.

~Elizabeth

Dreams last for so long, even after you're gone...
~Jewel

BluesSerenade
Member Patricius

since 2001-10-23

Posts 10549
By the Seaside

2 posted 2003-06-16 01:26 PM

And the story of your life grows weaker with each day and turning page.

This is extremely loving and a very heart warming poem.

timothysangel1973

Senior Member

since 2001-12-03

Posts 1725
Never close enough

3 posted 2003-06-16 01:31 PM

I must've been around 14 or 15 when I wrote this. Each of my grandfathers were dead when I was born, so an older man in our neighborhood (a family friend) kinna adopted us when we were kids. He was the only grandfather I ever knew. He was very sick when I wrote this poem. He had a large Weeping Willow in his front yard that he used to sit under, I wrote this one day as I sat with him under the tree.

Papa Ralph (that's his name), he died about 6 years ago, and the house that he lived in is gone...but the tree still stands. Everynow and then I drive by, and in my mind can see him sitting in his chair.
*Quite a memory*

Thanks for all the nice comments about the poem!

Tima C.

If you cant get rid of the skeletons in your closet, you'd best teach them how to dance. George Bernard Shaw

garysgirl