by Anne Sikes
Grandpa was a gentle man, his memory so very clear.
Remembering him makes me smile, a sweet smile it is.
And a quiet man was he, never saying more than was
Necessary. Grandma made up for it though, as Grandpa
Donned a smile, sitting with hands folded, eyes twinkling,
Pretending not to be bothered by her outspokenness,
And waiting anxiously for his westerns to come on the tv.