Prose For Thought – My Grandad

Thank you to those of you who linked to Prose for Thought last week. I apologise for being somewhat of an absent host this last week or so. I am afraid I am going to be even more absent next week but I shall be leaving you in the very capable hands of Helen from All At Sea who will be your lovely host for Prose for Thought.

This week I have decided to re-publish the first ever poem I put on my blog. It is fitting as 4 years ago this Saturday, I had to be brave and stand up at my Grandad’s funeral in order to read a poem that I had written the day he died. I remember the Vicar coming over to my Mum’s house to discuss the service and I read the poem to him to ensure it was appropriate. He did. I summoned my strength and stood reading to the congregation. It was hard with his coffin in the corner of my eye but I knew it was the least I could do after what he had done for me, my family and our Country. The Vicar then included the line ‘The person we’d aspire to be’ in his speech about Grandad, saying that they are not enough examples of this anymore. I agree.

Our Grandad

A man of grace and integrity

The meaning of things he’d help you see

The person we’d aspire to be

Our Grandad


For six years he was prisoner of war

Only he knows the horror he saw

A man who always laid down the law

Our Grandad


Myra is the lady to whom he stayed true

Born of them one girl, and boys, they had two

Worked hard and did what he had to do

Our Grandad


Always picked you up if you should fall

Throughout everything he stood tall

Lots of hard times, he got through them all

Our Grandad


You’d see him regularly wearing brown

But he hardly ever wore a frown

Stored his tins of food upside down

Our Grandad


A cup of tea was his favourite drink

He’d show you things and make you think

Made a boat of wood that didn’t sink

Our Grandad


Imaginary play was one of his best

Greenhouse became shop at our bequest

He always seemed to outdo the rest

Our Grandad


A gentleman we will respect forever

A gentleman we won’t forget, not ever

A gentleman whose memories we will treasure

Our Grandad

© Victoria Welton 10th June 2009


I would really love and appreciate your comments below – and please, go and visit and comment on, the poems from the people who link up :)

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  1. Mrs Teepot
    June 23, 2013 / 1:48 pm

    He sounds like a man with a lot of stories to tell
    Mrs Teepot recently posted..Father’s DayMy Profile

  2. June 20, 2013 / 1:58 pm

    A beautiful, touching tribute to your Grandad. Just lovely. I do hope your crazy busy move goes OK and I can’t wait to meet you…tomorrow!! Thank you for hosting lovely xx
    Dragonsflypoppy recently posted..Proud mummyMy Profile

  3. June 20, 2013 / 9:08 am

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  4. Lorraine
    June 20, 2013 / 7:55 am

    Beautiful words love. He’d be so proud. I miss my grandad every day. He was in the Normandy landings, and with yours a PoW, it makes you realise just how many normal men saw such horrific things. RIP Grandads everywhere who fought for us and then loved us xx

  5. June 20, 2013 / 7:51 am

    This was beautiful – got a bit tearful while reading it. Poetry is such a wonderful way of bringing memories of our loved ones to life. x
    Elwira recently posted..It’s not me, it’s YOUMy Profile

  6. June 20, 2013 / 7:11 am

    Such a touching tribute and I expect there was barely a dry eye. So brave of you to read your poem. He sounds like a wonderful, hard working, creative man with a great imagination and the ability to find solutions through the hard times and a ‘fixer’ of all things broken. Definitely someone to aspire to be. A very special poem about a wonderful man. Hugs to you x
    Sarah recently posted..Prose for Thought – If the rain could wash his pain away…My Profile

  7. Stephanie
    June 20, 2013 / 6:52 am

    What special words to have at the funeral. I read at my Dad’s funeral and it is not an easy thing to do. I am sure that this meant a lot to everyone who was there,
    Stephanie recently posted..Is the joy of motherhood a big fat lie?My Profile

  8. June 20, 2013 / 6:47 am

    Oh Vicky how beautiful. This brings a tear to my eye. He would be so proud to know you were writing and thinking of him. I came back to poetry after years through a poem I wrote for my Gran and read at her funeral. So perhaps we also have them to thank for that – bringing us back around to something we love xx

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