Grandpa lived in the kind of world
Filled with country farms and such
Old rail fences circled the fields
A world with a rustic touch
Grandpa’s world was hard work
For that’s all he ever knew
I loved to spend time at his side
Under country skies of blue
The old windmill towering high
With pieces broken here and there
It just kept going day after day
It didn’t really seem to care
Grandpa and that old windmill
Were so much alike to me
They did the very best they could
Like that tired old sycamore tree
A world that was far from easy
But I don’t think grandpa cared
Oh, those stories he’d tell to me
That he did so love to share
Grandpa’s world had so much charm
The best world he could know
I miss him and his windmill
And I treasure my memories so!
Marilyn Lott
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grandpa-s-world/
