Grandfather and
Grandaughter walking in the woods
Looking to where the dock
once stood.
"Let's pick a walking stick",
Papa says to me,
"This looks like a fine young
tree".
He takes out this knife and
starts cutting away,
Forming the top as a handle,
The bottom becomes the width
of a candle.
Papa hands me the finished
walking stick.
After carefully choosing one
of his own
We start walking slowly away
from home,
Deep into the forest we go,
listening
For the sounds of the animals
we know.
Of nature and life we talked
We walked this way until it
got dark.
In the distance we could hear
The gentle ringing of the
bells
Grandma rang for us with care.
Dinner was waiting on the
table
For all of our family to share
The warmth of our evening
meal.
Many a day we filled with our
walks
We once had during my youth.
Oh how I miss those talks
In which you taught me the
ways of nature
I now look to the chair where
you once sat,
Wishing that I could hear
your voice once more.
Now you watch to see how I've
grown,
Your walkings stick stands
in the corner, alone. |