When I was but a child
I would sit enraptured at the knee
Listening so very earnestly
To what my grandfather would say to me
So many stories he would share
Of life – how it was when he was young
I would hear tales about macaroni shells
And how they grow outside on trees
Stories about children growing up
Silly mistakes that they would make
And I knew to never take most things he said
Very seriously, because he might just be kidding me
For a sense of humour he did have
He could make me laugh when I was feeling sad
Lighten the air with only a smile or hug
And I do so miss him now very much
Not all his words were humorous jokes
For wise thoughts he would also share
Warning me that growing old
Is not for the faint-hearted, one must be strong
People fill our hearts with stories they tell
Infuse our vision with their lives and their love
And one day we find they have been taken from us
Leaving only memories as a faded note
That they lived and we loved them
For a short while they were alive as we are now –
Our own stories will touch younger hearts
As our hearts were touched when we were young
Poems and Petals 