The Swing
Jun 19th, 2009 | By Joseph Meckes | Category: Poetry | 487 views“Push me Grandpa”, his voice beckoned me
the day nearly done, and I was weary
but persistence won, and he grinned ear to ear
it’s hard to believe how he grew that year.
The daylight was fading, with a voice like a bird
he knew all our songs, every last word.
As long as I pushed him, the songs would flow
that grandson of mine was a singing sideshow.
With head flung back, his feet in the air
I remember a time when I was right there.
A young boy so vibrant and so full of dreams
I believed I could walk in the sky on sun beams.
I remember my Grandpa, how he sang to me
as he pushed the swing under that old apple tree.
The songs we sang, as he pushed that swing
were the songs I taught my grandson to sing.
The days are now gone, I still reminisce
the times that we shared, I truly do miss.
As I sat in my wheelchair I heard a voice say
“I’ll push you Grandpa, how was your day?”
He pushed me outside as the sun moved on down
my heart again singing, cause he was around.
With my head flung back and my feet in the air
pushed back and forth . . . my swing . . . the wheelchair.
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About Joe: I've always loved poetry, not all poetry, but the stuff that makes you laugh or cry. I've been writing poetry for family and friends since college but have resisted pushing my poetic style to a public medium until now. I guess I'm a senior citizen since AARP has solicited my membership which I just haven't wanted to accept yet. I am busy with my career as a manufacturing software consultant, spending time with my wife of 34+ years, involved with our two daughter's lives, and my grandsons. Oh those grandsons! I've been blessed in many ways but most of all with health and family. I'm a world traveler and have been dumb struck many times by the beauty of God's world and the complexities of his creation. I hope you enjoy my poetry. Please feel free to contact me; I enjoy the interaction with other creative writers. |
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