The Visit

I can remember long ago

When Grandpa came to call...

The stories that He told me

When I was very small .

He was quite disheveled

His hair a snowy white ...

Yet this certain aura of authority

As Smoke curled from his pipe .

I thought I would come to visit ...

I know that your not feeling well ...

I  don't mean to disturb you ...

I just came to sit a spell ...

It was his very presence

That  washed the sickness away ...

The strength of his demeanor

Made it simply fade.

Now that time has passed me by

It's Only those memories that I own ...

Of the times when Grandpa came to call

When I never felt alone.

And As I lay  upon this bed

And Age has its hold on me...

I Remember Grandpa with his Hair of white

And the way things used to be.

I will remember  the time of long ago

When Grandpa came to call ...

And I will picture Him here ,

right next to  me.

My final , precious memory of All.

By Pam Gallo

copyright 2007