My Maternal Grandpa

Poem By nimal dunuhinga

His name is Richard, though it's an English name
He's not an Englishman.
But a good sportsman, my kinsman.
He does upholstery and when he sew brass eyelets to the canvas
Oh! What a Master craftsman?
And from his blue transparent eyes I saw the patchy World.
After my father's tragic death he took the whole responsibility of our family.
He is an asthmatic patient but never grumbled.
Thank you so much, I tasted the cigarettes, your throwing butts
and sipped your cheap liquor stealthily.
He wants me to teach how to darn the patchy life until he died
Sorry, I learned a very little and still I repent.
But I salute you my great Grandpa!
As you are the far sighted Captain of my fragile soul-ship.

Comments about My Maternal Grandpa

This is a beautiful poem, Nimal. I particularly enjoyed your use of the word 'patchy' - not a commonplace, but perfect in this context 'darn the patchy life'. Your final line: 'As you are the far sighted Captain of my fragile soul-ship.' is exceptional. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
A memorable word portrait. You have given your grandpa a gift. You are keeping his name alive. A quality write from a quality poet. Always your friend, Sandra
Nice to respect elders - not much of that around, in todays youth me culture.


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