Christmas Poems for Grandpa

On Christmas night
I stay up and write
Christmas stories for grandpa.
I tuck them in his pocket
So when he gets back home,
in his house, alone,
comfortable in his chair
in the table-lamp’s glare
He can read them with care
and remember the love
we share.

We always buy him socks
and pants
with colors bright
and patterns crazy.
He laughs
and says he likes them
but no-one knows
if he actually puts them on.
We do know that he keeps
our poems, stories and drawings
in a tin
the pages thin
worn from over-reading.
Good to know they give him joy
throughout the year.

Grandpa loves the sound of bells
he like holly and mistletoe too.
The Christmas tree is a favourite thing
with lights, baubles and glittering bling.
Poems for him
are written with love
all the year through.

We go through photos one by one
my mum and me
and his only son.
poems for grandpa I write
often well into Christmas night
His life as a boy
was black and white
everything in place.
I search the shots
but it’s hard to spot
his lovely smiling face.

In the January snow
by the electric fires glow
we write our thanks to grandpa.
Letters and poems
are made with all the love from last year
and next year’s too.

As the yule logs gently burn,
we write Christmas poems,
each in turn.
We write about things Grandpa loves
seashells, books and smelly dogs.
We tell of times we spent with him
digging the garden, learning to swim.
He taught us all to ride our bikes
walked for miles on country hikes.
At holiday time
he comes and stays.
We eat special food for days and days.
Laughter rings around the tree
I snuggle down upon his knee.
Christmas love is everywhere
and we know it will remain
through this year and the ones to come
Not always the same
but changing as things do with time
mellowing and strengthening along the line.