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by Kevin Smead © 2023

The yard tools and wrenches were covered in dust
Down in the old wooden shed,
Just a reminder to all of us kids,
That dear old granddaddy was dead.

The yard overgrown, the roses ill kept,
The rain gauge was full and the carport unswept.
I sat on the porch in the lawn chair alone,
It was clear that granddaddy was gone.

The woodpile was cluttered, the garden was bare,
And into my eye came a tear.
The paint on the walls was pealing, I thought,
My dear old granddaddy's not here.

The cobwebs were hanging, the kitchen a mess,
The house felt all empty, the heart must confess,.
The air it was frigid, the fire was out,
Granddaddy was absent, there could be no doubt.

And there on the table an old tattered cloth,
Where once there sat a full spread,
Okra, tomatoes, lettuce, and squash,
potatoes, and peas, and cornbread.

Now there was silence where prayer was once said,
Now just a void where us kids had been fed,
No stories of the war, no tales of baseball,
Grandaddy was gone that was all.

But there lay his bible, beside the brown chair,
And a commentary that he once bought.
And beside these two there was also a third,
The Sunday school book he last taught.

I thought of his faith, of all he believed,
I thought of the Savior he once had received,
I then thought of heaven, my heart was a glow,
Dear granddad is there don't you know.
Yes granddad is there I just know.

This poem was a finalist in the August 2023 poetry contest

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