Poetry Pleases: Grandma
In this heart-felt poem Joyce Worsfold writes of the delights of being a grandma.
Away from the pounding of the children’s disco night
Empty crisps packets
sticky wrappers
Up the darkened road the moon’s own light
We’re on the tops
We want to stop
Far below lights straddle slopes
Necklacing unknown roads
We just sit and silently stare
“Grandma it just seems like the whole world’s a funfair.’’
Oh the wisdom of being five.
So open, so aware, so alive!
“Grandma I can read now, I’m already on blue book four
I can read all by myself, one day I’ll read every book on the shelf.’’
“Grandma show me how to be an artist, I want to draw
faces, and houses, and the sea shore
the air and flowers I’d like to paint.’’
“I want to be good one day, how do you get to be a saint?’’
“I want to be a window cleaner or a fireman
Anything with ladders, I can climb, I can.’’
“How come Grandad knows everything?
Is there a book you can get with it all in?’’
“How do you get to do the Olympics?
Do you have to run or can you do magic tricks?
I can jump and swim, I’m not bothered what I do
I just want a gold medal, I’d give it to you.’’
“Grandma do you know what, some people don’t even believe in God?
And they say rude words like bums, boobs and sod
And you know what’s worse, some even live in Disney-land.
Grandma how is fish canned?’’
We hold hands and walk together
Paddle in puddles, rejoice in weather
Sledge down slopes and laugh and scream
Eat strawberry toffee and chocolate-chip ice-cream.
We can fly kites that dip and dive
And catch the wind, and wake at five
And yawning, walk to hear birds sing
Be detectives, search for signs of spring.
Roll down slopes of mooth green grass
Gaze in pools as smooth as glass.
Drive along making up silly lines
Gobbling moments of precious time.
Carefully colouring copious pictures
Painstakingly sewing with great big stitches
Performing plays and dressing up
Drinking deep of childhood’s cup.
Cuddling close by a roaring fire, we explore
The Wind In The Willows, they beg for more
The Secret Garden and Charlotte’s Web
The Little Prince, it’s time for bed.
Church, theatre, concert, pantomime
All to enjoy at just the right time.
“Grandma you know our father, God who loves us all
Well, is there a Grand-God that we an call?’’
Oh yes, we have a real, grand God.
