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Post by goldenmyst on Dec 21, 2021 21:24:54 GMT -6
Granddad Childhood
Child of the golden eyed twenties Who roamed the tangled vines of a Shire Where snakes coiled in the wildfire summer And spider’s webs matted his hair Like smoke from a city in ruins Whose tobacconist incense kept the home fires illusion For his splintered strands to gather When silent virtue assailed his nights
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Post by QueenFoxy on Dec 23, 2021 21:27:59 GMT -6
Very nice, John.
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Post by goldenmyst on Dec 23, 2021 21:46:30 GMT -6
Thank you from my heart, my friend. Very glad you enjoyed my poem and especially grateful for your tag expression of what poetry does for you. It does indeed heal. This is my imaginary poem about what my grandpa might have experienced as a child based on my own childhood in Mississippi.
XoXoXo John
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Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2022 19:10:59 GMT -6
I like this It's like a snapshot in the mind for the reader. Thanks for sharing
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Post by goldenmyst on Jan 8, 2022 19:19:00 GMT -6
Thank you so much, Michael. I wonder how much really describes my grandpas' childhood, how closely his childhood resembled mine.
John
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Post by oldarmybear on Jan 14, 2022 13:31:41 GMT -6
I can't remember interacting with my grandfather no matter how I try. With my mom gone to heaven ther is no one to ask.
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Post by goldenmyst on Jan 14, 2022 17:33:47 GMT -6
Thanks for sharing Don. My grandparents brought me up and fortunately kept their mental and physical strength well into their eighties. So I have many memories of them both as my parents.
John
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