He traced his finger round the cup;
his tea was getting cold.
His hands were shaking, steadily,
his skin was worn and old.
So full of wisdom, were his eyes,
but steely was his gaze.
For he’d seen much of everything,
through long and laboured days.
His seat was at the table’s head,
his loved ones all around.
And whilst they yelled and talked aloud,
he didn’t make a sound.
He looked upon his children whom
he’d treasured all his life.
His youngest clutched his weathered hand,
beside him, sat his wife.
His grandkids laughter filled the room,
their innocence - his bliss.
Upon his lap they’d taken turns.
His furrowed brow, they’d kiss.
And though his body wore defeat,
he closed his eyes in grace.
And then, in silent gratitude,
a tear fell down his face.
By Elisabeth Sophia
I wrote this poem for my beautiful grandad, my Papou, many years after he had passed. He was, and still is, such a cherished person in our family and in our lives and I wanted to capture his strength and love for his family.
I shared it on social media and found that so many of you resonated with the words and shared stories with me of your beloved fathers and grandfathers and I wanted to be able to share it with you and your loved ones.
This poem is printed on premium A5 card and packaged with a high quality backing board in clear sealed bags with optional gift messaging available.