The old man looked up, glasses on head
Sitting in his own chair, by the fireplace.
Aye, I know what you want to do, he said
As he went to the table, and cleared a space.
Clack, clack, clack, rang the familiar sound,
As he tipped the dominoes in a little mound.
Grandpa lived in a woman's world,
Most of his grandchildren were girls.
His working man's hands are now gnarled,
A couple of pints his only thrill.
The nine spot dominoes his pride and joy,
He said he had them when he was a boy.
Dominoes are an easy game to play,
A young boy even knows what he should do.
Grandpa advising me what I should lay,
Helping me to win the odd game or two.
Lots of memories of happy days,
Playing many games at grandpa's place.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem