Sonnets 290-291. To My Grandmother on Her 90th Birthday.
1
I’ve ever known my grandmother as Nan,
And always felt her welcome tone repel
All criticism. Speech, came out unplanned,
Love unreserved and unconditional.
So much so, Nan had no ability
To contemplate her grandsons and find fault
With anything we did. Her loyalty
Was absolute, each blame-fuelled train of thought,
Ran off the rails when we stood on the tracks.
Disparagement, or disapproval found
No place to get a hand hold. Our nan lacked
The faculty to see our flaws first hand.
I never knew our nan to raise her voice
At anything we said when we were boys.
2
And we accepted everything she did
As normal.
Some might say, perhaps, it is.
Or should be. Our relationships when kids
With adults turn a pauper to a prince.
And we were princes, certainly to her.
As some might point out, all kids ought to be.
A grandma’s job is to . . . is to be there,
I’m lucky, I had that full family.
My grandfather could make this humble boast,
That both his great-grandchildren’s middle names,
From different grandsons, (born a year apart),
Was Ernest. Which means something, I would say.
Some small repayment. Some acknowledgement
Of how you both were always there for us.
Andrew Barker
#grandmother
24 фев 2023
