This elderly gentleman caught my eye while at the magnificent Victoria and Albert Museum in London, England. He was ambling slowly along the far wall, but something made him change course and admire this statue. I was fortunate to catch this image frozen forever in time, the angle of his back almost parallel to the lovely sculpted torso of the maiden. He was wearing a pressed grey flannel suit, polished shoes and he reminded me of my own beloved British grandfather although this man is younger than even my father would be today. Perhaps twenty years older than I am now.

I processed the photo in Black and white (essentially grey) which are the colours of my memories of Papa. My grandfather did not have Osteoporosis like this man, nor did he wear a peaked cap but wore a fedora until that style disappeared completely in the early 1960’s. I view him as an everyman grandfather, a trove of experience, hopes, sorrows.

I wanted to write a poem about him, but he already IS a poem. Not a song, though…not yet. I wrote a lyric. I have the rhythm of the words and the form as solid as the statue but my life is too busy to set it properly to music. It is in me, but will have to wait. Next week.

Grandfather 
Dapper as can be 
Grandfather
filled with History

The weight of the world may have bent you 
but broken you are not
you visit the museum 
to restore what you forgot

Grandfather
living out your years
Grandfather
no more time for tears

the world has spun away from you
but you don’t seem to care
all your best behind you
content to just be there

Grandfather
the sum of where you’ve been
grandfather
oh what  your eyes  have seen

“mes meilleurs souvenirs”
in my declining years
my worries and my fears
have all disappeared

Grandfather
the sum of where you’ve been
grandfather
oh what  your eyes  have seen