I think I'm going to type up a poem written by my grandpa.. Its one of the few ones he wrote in stadand English.. A lot of the others are in a very strange dialect which would probably not make sense to many.. This is a happy humorous poem about the days he spent in hospital while they gave him back his hearing after nearly a lifetime of deafness..
Silence and sounds: 1983
My ears are not the keenest kind - Nor are they of the sort designed to titivate the features of a fairly humdrum face.
But satisfied with them or not theyre mine - The only ears I've got. AND needed when I'm reading just to keep my specs in place.
Though sometimes, when a razor-blade has lightened my dark face a shade, my eyes look left and right and wonder why on earth they're there?
Ungainly. Sticky-out a bit. With whiskers. But I must admit, I think that Van Gogh was mad to split a perfect pair!
When all the members of myself are queuing by the storage shelf Of goodies that my teeth and I have processed for their need,
I bet these poor old ears of mine, as usual, are the last in line. And much too proud to join the others growing fat from greed!
A hearing-aid? Yes Please! Oh yes! A gift from God himself no less!
So many things to listen to! But where do i begin?
My eyes are filling up with tears as purest heaven fills my ears
A thousand thanks to you my friend, Yehudi Menuhin!
What happiness a deaf-aid brings. Who said my ears were usless things?
So many sounds I've read about and NOW been given proof.
The sweetness of a blackbird's song. Exquisite! But - Dont get me wrong - Im thrilled as much to hear a sparrow chirping on the roof.
Four senses now becoming five. At long, long last to come alive!
Yet small things figure largely in my listening catalogue.
Today I heard a grand duet! Before the beach was inches wet, the laughter of young boy and the barking of his dog!
For once, I have the edge on you. I live in not one world, but TWO
And I don't have to suffer from the modern world's pell-mell.
The slightest movement of my thumb can render even brass bands dumb!
The gift which brings me sounds to hear, can turn them off as well!
My wife no longer has to shout. Nor scraps of paper left about. To tell me what I shouldn't do ..Or maybe what I SHOULD.
And sweeter than the songs of birds: my grandson's crisp, unbroken words,
"Hello grandpa!". "Hello grandpa!" Im happy, God is good! T.Syddall 1912-1997
v78 @_@ xxx
Silence and sounds: 1983
My ears are not the keenest kind - Nor are they of the sort designed to titivate the features of a fairly humdrum face.
But satisfied with them or not theyre mine - The only ears I've got. AND needed when I'm reading just to keep my specs in place.
Though sometimes, when a razor-blade has lightened my dark face a shade, my eyes look left and right and wonder why on earth they're there?
Ungainly. Sticky-out a bit. With whiskers. But I must admit, I think that Van Gogh was mad to split a perfect pair!
When all the members of myself are queuing by the storage shelf Of goodies that my teeth and I have processed for their need,
I bet these poor old ears of mine, as usual, are the last in line. And much too proud to join the others growing fat from greed!
A hearing-aid? Yes Please! Oh yes! A gift from God himself no less!
So many things to listen to! But where do i begin?
My eyes are filling up with tears as purest heaven fills my ears
A thousand thanks to you my friend, Yehudi Menuhin!
What happiness a deaf-aid brings. Who said my ears were usless things?
So many sounds I've read about and NOW been given proof.
The sweetness of a blackbird's song. Exquisite! But - Dont get me wrong - Im thrilled as much to hear a sparrow chirping on the roof.
Four senses now becoming five. At long, long last to come alive!
Yet small things figure largely in my listening catalogue.
Today I heard a grand duet! Before the beach was inches wet, the laughter of young boy and the barking of his dog!
For once, I have the edge on you. I live in not one world, but TWO
And I don't have to suffer from the modern world's pell-mell.
The slightest movement of my thumb can render even brass bands dumb!
The gift which brings me sounds to hear, can turn them off as well!
My wife no longer has to shout. Nor scraps of paper left about. To tell me what I shouldn't do ..Or maybe what I SHOULD.
And sweeter than the songs of birds: my grandson's crisp, unbroken words,
"Hello grandpa!". "Hello grandpa!" Im happy, God is good! T.Syddall 1912-1997
v78 @_@ xxxVIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
And those pics are sweeeett!
Cherry xox
lisa x