A lively little lassie, I liked nestling in his lap,
Where he wove a web of words to whet my wit.
His stutter couldn’t stifle a stream of stubborn sounds,
Or deter tenacious tries at tongue twisters.
‘A t-t-twister of twists
Once t-t-twisted a twist,
And the t-twist that he twisted
Was a th-three twisted twist.’ *
He revelled in unravelling ridiculous riddles,
Delighted in discerning Dickens’ detail,
And a side-splitting snigger o’er the gist of a joke,
Left him powerless to pass on the punch line.
His dangerous driving distressed droves of pedestrians,
And flattened a few of Mum’s flourishing flowers,
But curiosity compelled his countless excursions
And found him flying to far-flung fields like France.
Stopping one Saturday, we stared skyward in surprise, as
Standing on his roof, securing slipping slates,
Smiled the same stubborn soul, aged a sprightly seventy six,
Convinced he could complete this risky caper.
A perfect personality, poor Papa possessed not.
Trivial tiffs triggered terrible tempers,
And screwing up at Scrabble saw him scowling scarily.
Yet this twisted, tainted mortal mirrored me.
In his last lap of life, lament lashed out at laughter,
Casting away comfort from conundrums.
‘Til Grandad grasped a hold of the greatest guide book given
And pardon peeled off pride, exposing peace.
Both forlorn, though fearless, we now faced our final farewell,
Grandad and his girl now grasped in God’s great grace.
United together, true eternal relatives, by
The Almighty, ultimate ‘Twister of Twists’.
* Read my Grandad’s favourite tongue twister at:
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