Where Acorns Lay Poem by Bill Simmons

Beneath the tree where acorns lay
The old man I heard him say, long ago
With a walking cane at his side
That kept step with his stride
As we walked along the grove

See the acorn in my hand
And you will understand
This is what is life
All things are meant to be
Life and death are my friends,
As I held his hand

A small hand around his finger
The memories linger,

And when at night in rocking chair
While in his lap, I was there
As he pointed at the Big Dipper
And the Milky Way
Heaven he said
Is that way

And too one day just after rain
Through the puddles I tromped and played
He made me a whistle from a willow that day
Oh but those days went away

It seems though time
It wont stand still
It seems sometimes
The memories they will
The memories of a time that was all mine,
And in the mind we find,
The memories remember,

One small hand
Wrapped around a finger

Humming birds in mid July
Eagles in the air, I see them fly
Fireflies decorate the daffodils in the fields
Make a wish
A falling star
There it is, the northern star
Grandpa I miss you still
With all my heart.


Copyright 2008 Bill Simmons
aka BillWilliamStar
BillWilliamstar@aol.com
author: The Kingdom & When Cannons Fire