Memories of Grandpa

Lingering memories of horses

And cowboys that ride upon knees,

Tall tales not found in any book of stories.

Lawrence Welk’s champagne bubbles on Sunday eves,

Buck Owens on Hee-Haw sings country melodies.

Walter Cronkite drones on the nightly news,

About crime rates, recession, and things abstruse.

Upon the couch you both listen in awe,

While I am happy just lying by grandma and grandpa.

My head on her lap feet lay upon yours,

Silently you doze off and begin to snore.

Ponies and cows, milking and feed,

A walk though the fields while chewing on weeds.

A fishing pole set, worm wiggling upon hook,

While the bobber sits floating atop of a brook.

“Grandpa, Watch me, look I can swim,”

I take a deep breath and then I dive in.

Strong hands wielding an axe,

Peaceful countryside once quiet, now echoes back

The rap of the resounding crack.

A drive to the orchard, cardboard box in tow,

Soon with apples, it will overflow.

Squirrel and pheasant hunting trips,

Pointing out cloud shapes, look there’s a ship.

Mushroom hunting, we made many trips,

Bringing them home for grandma to fix.

Dipped in batter and fried to perfection,

Tasting better than any confection.

Just a few memories I have of thee,

Alzheimer’s has stolen your memories of me.

For Grandpa; I love you Gramps

By: Dixie Cornell 8/10/2000