BritinAfrica's story of his grandfather stirred memories of a poem I wrote some time ago about my grandfather, who was also a great character.
MY GRANDFATHER. 1877-1955. 15 may 07
My grandfather was a rascal
They said.
He was born and bred in Spitalfields
And raised his children around the band-stand,
Just behind Shoreditch church.
My grandfather was a rascal
They told me.
Although he worked hard all his life
And even though he and his brothers
Had been stage performers.
His work was rolling fat cigars.
My grandfather was a rascal
As I heard it.
He married a beautiful, dignified lady
When they were young and
They were blessed with sixteen children.
Twelve of these blessings became adults;
Seven girls and five boys.
And he was always there for them.
My grandfather was a rascal
His children complained.
Although he often fried breakfast
For all of them
And he taught them all to spell
Like this:- c – a – Cat.
It must have been a good system;
All of them could read well
And count well.
My grandfather was a rascal
I was led to believe.
When the bells fell silent
He sang and recited for his children
Just as he famously did in the taverns;
Amongst the villains
And the fighting men;
Who clapped and applauded
And rewarded him with pints of beer.
He said he always got the blame
For everything in Hackney
.
My grandfather was a rascal
Rumour has it.
And when London Bridge was falling down
He would carefully clasp a penny in his eye,
Challenging his grandchildren to remove it.
He would tell them that he knew a song called
‘When they begin the beguine’
Impossible, I told him.
When I was fifteen and at a party,
I was privileged to play 3-Card-Brag with him.
My mother harangued him
Until I got my money back.
.
My grandfather was a rascal
He told me.
But my grandmother loved him, I asked her.
When they played cards together for pennies
It has been said that my grandfather cheated.
When they were old he became very ill;
The last time I saw him
Was at his bedside;
Just he and I.
‘Are you in great pain grand-dad ?’, I asked.
‘Del Boy’- he told me,
‘I am being punished for all
The bad things I did in my life.’
My grandfather wasa rascal naughty.
God bless him.
(Del Boy 15 May 2007)
MY GRANDFATHER. 1877-1955. 15 may 07
My grandfather was a rascal
They said.
He was born and bred in Spitalfields
And raised his children around the band-stand,
Just behind Shoreditch church.
My grandfather was a rascal
They told me.
Although he worked hard all his life
And even though he and his brothers
Had been stage performers.
His work was rolling fat cigars.
My grandfather was a rascal
As I heard it.
He married a beautiful, dignified lady
When they were young and
They were blessed with sixteen children.
Twelve of these blessings became adults;
Seven girls and five boys.
And he was always there for them.
My grandfather was a rascal
His children complained.
Although he often fried breakfast
For all of them
And he taught them all to spell
Like this:- c – a – Cat.
It must have been a good system;
All of them could read well
And count well.
My grandfather was a rascal
I was led to believe.
When the bells fell silent
He sang and recited for his children
Just as he famously did in the taverns;
Amongst the villains
And the fighting men;
Who clapped and applauded
And rewarded him with pints of beer.
He said he always got the blame
For everything in Hackney
.
My grandfather was a rascal
Rumour has it.
And when London Bridge was falling down
He would carefully clasp a penny in his eye,
Challenging his grandchildren to remove it.
He would tell them that he knew a song called
‘When they begin the beguine’
Impossible, I told him.
When I was fifteen and at a party,
I was privileged to play 3-Card-Brag with him.
My mother harangued him
Until I got my money back.
.
My grandfather was a rascal
He told me.
But my grandmother loved him, I asked her.
When they played cards together for pennies
It has been said that my grandfather cheated.
When they were old he became very ill;
The last time I saw him
Was at his bedside;
Just he and I.
‘Are you in great pain grand-dad ?’, I asked.
‘Del Boy’- he told me,
‘I am being punished for all
The bad things I did in my life.’
My grandfather wasa rascal naughty.
God bless him.
(Del Boy 15 May 2007)
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