In Memoriam To My Grandfather Poem by Gert Strydom

My granddad carried the same name and surname as I.
was a hard-working and God-loving man that did build
and developed houses and he also was a carpenter
but later we will get back to that.

With his own hands in Brakpan he build a church,
all the members including my father converted people
to fill that church up as they took religion seriously.

I just started to walk and grandfather seemed huge,
hearty and ancient to me and in his workshop
everything was tidy and had a right kind of place
but time and again before him open was his bible.

Granddad was friendly and never said a harsh word,
I was following his huge steps as I did walk behind him.

The pastor and the congregation has sold that old church
and wants to build a massive sanctuary seating thousands,
where the head-elder (bless his soul)have underwritten it
with all of his businesses and how they are going to fill it
I do not know.

On a fateful day in hospital that kind old man lay.
Coming back to his carpentry: a door had fallen on him,
it had caused internal-bleeding and at that time
the hospital and doctors were not fit to treat such a thing,
or to operate on him.

That church was his legacy and now it's gone
but the memory of that old man to me still lives on.