Ode To My Granddaughter
(fashioned upon Keat’s, “Ode to a Nightingale”)
My bones ache and weariness pervades;
My qi wanes as it disperses to four winds,
Sucked away, gone into vastness of space.
It’s time for time’s reckoning; its vortex spins.
But you, Dear Granddaughter, dancing
There, singing melodious beats among trees.
You, fresh sprung youth, no concept of worry,
We watch you, so enchanting.
Ever-quickening my closing date leaps,
But you inhale sweet hyacinth, in no hurry.
O for sip or two of gold, fermented cider
Plucked from wizened apples, winter-rested,
Poured to flute; raised twinkles bring fire,
Heady with sparks and stars, recall when
Untested, light-footed, right-brained, bright,
Heedless of morrow’s regret aft night’s folly
Libido re-strung, unseasoned, unspent
Both roughed and tendered. While
You, dreamless, are in nursery, I float, whiled
Away with old lovers, long before laments.
Remain guileless, Granddaughter, oblivious
Of stalking wolfish eyes, lying silver tongues,
Myth’s traps of patriarchy and insidiousness.
Ne’er brew mien of acid, alchemy of mistrust,
Left brain vigilant in taut self-defense,
And worry saps colors to paralyzed gray.
Where enjoyment is only dreamed, vicariously
Where pleasure’s tainted to complex
Twisted sticky webs, offers trapped in dismay.
Stay you, please cloud-free in daisy curiosity.
Away, round turns, deeper, to green swath
Lost in fertile mysteries where only fair go,
Slippers dewed by grass along waterfall path,
I’ll meet you where koi wiggle-ripple just so,
Dreams come to life. Where I loom to spy
Your tiny hand’s cradling pellets to drop, float
Briefly ere sun-flecked calico hunger churns.
My heart, far from withered, sighs.
Our Tuesdays in the garden are worth note
Where Nature plays, joy for life affirmed.
Arthritis curls, cramps, gooses flabby flesh
Baggage hefted wearies neck, shoulders
Time sprawl shortens, distracts as it tests
Most days in a weak state of feeling older.
At school you’re learning to play by rules
Fear may not – pray, may never – be feeling
In vocabulary of your future; light’s buffer,
Love-power, self-worth your fuels.
With Tuesdays, your spirit brings healing.
When you greet me, I no longer suffer.
Soon you’ll grow, will rise, and grow away.
For me, sod’s certainty beckons; I tremble.
A sickled, rattling shroud called on me today.
Asked if it was time for mourning assemble.
To his eyeless sockets, I said, “I do not know.”
A text blings, “See you Tuesday, Grammy?”
“Until then!”; turn then to show Mr. Bones out.
So loud is love’s crow!
Fated, unworthy, yet grace’s tender has me;
Swaddled moment’s suspension, no doubt.
Granddaughter, imbued of boundless youth!
Spirit of exuberance, infectiously you spread
Bubbling laughter through eons rings sooth!
Bouncing off mud banks where river bends,
Once heard by Cro-Magnon and mammoth
Gathering berries, plucking tender leaves
Bathed in hope of endless season’s plenty
No clouds in panorama
Yesterday’s hunger extinct, bellies appeased,
Offspring surviving long winter will be many.
Insomnia! Arthritis! Heartburn squalls;
Conditions assail as university bell tolls.
Abandoned I am left obsessed with falls.
Scholarships, grants, your success foretold;
September Grammy fades, an afterthought.
Tenderhorn with field of study, library shelves,
You mosey off down the trail to Golden State.
Time’s relativity underfoot
I’m tripping on treasure, your sprite wee self
Among green. Calm, a-rest, may I not awake.
Punam is today’s host for dVerse’ Open Link Night.
I’m linking up a poem I wrote for Sanaa’s 3/18 prompt, where I chose a field of flowers image John Keats’ ‘Ode to a Nightingale’ to inspire me. I tried to glean the intent and conveyance of the poem and spin it in a similar way.
Tao Talk 
Dearest Li, I can see the labour of love blooming beautifully in this heartfelt ode!! I am writing this after my first reading. I will have to come back again and read it to enjoy and marvel at this most amazing write. This is certainly one of your best. It gave me goosebumps, made me smile as well as tear up. ❤️❤️
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<3 Thank you, Punam. It's been awhile since pushing myself with a poem. It's a WIP but at least now it makes some kind of sense lol
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You are welcome, Li. ❤️ It makes a lot of sense.
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<3
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What a tour de force… so much loved and how you can imagine your grandfather there, young among the trees, and even aging, resting after all his achievement…. marvelous work
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Thanks much, Bjorn. You see a grandfather, I see myself, but the essence of it remains <3
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Wonderful ♥️
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Thank you, Caleb!
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Magical, Lisa! A treasure your granddaughter will hold close to her heart always. Brava! 🤩
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Nancy, thank you <3
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Prego!
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The image of your granddaughter dancing stays with me, I particularly liked “Remain guileless, Granddaughter, oblivious
Of stalking wolfish eyes, lying silver tongues,”
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Thanks much, Kim.
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So much, so many phrases to relish and re-linger with… what a tour de force as others have said. I never hitherto imagined you old enough for a granddaughter!
This phrase hit me right in the wistful love-full-ness place:
“you inhale sweet hyacinth, in no hurry”.
Reminds me obliquely of “Nature does not hurry, yet all is accomplished” (Lao Tsu), which I fed to a friend today…
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Kathy, thanks so much, and thanks about me not being old enough to be grandmother. I’m close to 70! The cousin I grew up with, 4.5 years older than me, has not only a slew of grandkids but great grandkids! She has created her own tribe lol. Happy you enjoyed the lines and a comparison to Lao Tzu is an honor.
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A great tribe you have. I’m halfway between you and your coz and my dear daughter-in-love and son don’t plan on kids, so my Tribe is of soul siblings… You’re one… X
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Kathy, sometimes I think a person can be a tribe of 1 if they surround themselves with other loving living beings like furbabies, plants, wildlife, trees, etc. Awesome on considering me one of your soul siblings (great term!) <3
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So many beautiful images here. Love is a wondrous thing…and I expect you’ll be around awhile longer to enjoy it. (K)
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Thanks, Dear K, I hope so.
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A lovely ode filled with imagery and heartfelt emotions. Beautiful writing…
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Truedessa thanks very much.
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Beautiful. I especially like that second stanza.
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Jennifer thank you very much.
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I really love your exquisite poem, Lisa. Very well written and your images are perfect. Your granddaughter is your fountain of youth. Keep drinking and old bones will not come knocking any time soon!
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<3 <3 <3 Thanks so much, Dwight. Yes, she is. She continually amazes me at her creativity and joie de vivre.
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You are welcome!
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Oh lisa!!! i agree with dwight– exquisite! my favorite lines were,
“Where enjoyment is only dreamed, vicariously
Where pleasure’s tainted to complex
Twisted sticky webs, offers trapped in dismay.
Stay you, please cloud-free in daisy curiosity.”
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Oh my, Lisa. This is truly wonderful! I’m starstruck by your talents and love.
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Dale, being a grandma has given me, as Dwight said, a fountain of youth. I am blessed to be able to spend time with her every Tuesday. Can’t wait until summer when we all go to the beach again. I got her an inflatable turtle with handles on it and we all take turns pushing her around on it. Thank you for the kind words <3
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Awwww. I cannot foresee if that is in my future. 🤗
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I hope it is, Dale. It’s “the last of life for which the first was made.”
https://poets.org/poem/rabbi-ben-ezra
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🤗
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A tour de force…mentioning the mammoth put perspective, a different sense of time and quiet reflection..beautiful love expressed, can taste the cider….the ending so powerful…v interesting the right-brained,…..
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Ain, your feedback is much appreciated. Not used to writing lengthy poems and the paring-down process was arduous. To some it comes easy, but not me! Thank you <3
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I love this poem of compassion between the grandmother and her granddaughter. Very moving
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Sadje, thank you. I was imagining that any grandmother would relate to it (and grandfather if it is a guy.)
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Very true my friend. It evokes both the love and hope a grandparent has for their grandchildren.
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<3
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Wow, Lisa, these words:
A sickled, rattling shroud called on me today.Asked if it was time for mourning assemble.To his eyeless sockets, I said, “I do not know.”A text blings, “See you Tuesday, Grammy?”“Until then!”; turn then to show Mr. Bones out.So loud is love’s crow!
My goodness. Reminded me of my favourite Poe poem, The Sleeper.
What is your Bluesky handle. I can’t find you.
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Robbie, I had to go out to read it. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48629/the-sleeper-56d22a05d79d5 Oh my, to be compared to Poe is a great honor, thank you my friend. My Bluesky handle is oneof10k
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It is a very moving poem by Poe and so is yours 🌹. I would never have guessed that handle 😉
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<3 That's one of my first handles ever, when I was still at AOL lol
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🩵🦋
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I love the comparison you make between innocence and looming death. I especially love this line:
Stay you, please cloud-free in daisy curiosity.
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Thanks very much, Nolcha.
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Oh, what a beautiful poem. I love the little pieces of childhood magic you have gathered while observing your granddaughter.
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Stacy, many thanks. It was a labor of love.
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The love shines through, and the way she keeps you young at heart.
“A text blings, “See you Tuesday, Grammy?”
“Until then!”; turn then to show Mr. Bones out.
So loud is love’s crow!” 💙
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Thanks much, Merril.
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You’re welcome, Li.
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The style is beautiful, and this line seems so heartfelt –
-“Stay you, please cloud-free in daisy curiosity”
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My most fervent prayer for her.
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:-) :-) :-)
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