Initially, I wasn't sure exactly where the first one was leading me.
It talks about a few simple yet precious memories that I have of my grandmother (who passed away 2 years ago).
The poem begins by talking about how I woke up one day in her large house, and saw her sitting alone in the kitchen. This must have been a Sunday because we walked to church together.
A few years later, I danced with her at my sister's wedding. I remember the advice she gave me about living life, working hard, and loving family and friends.
She was a wonderful lady, and she helped mould me into the person that I am today. For that I will always be grateful.
The Person I Became
It truly just seemed,
like another simple day.
The sun delivered smiles,
while the birds chirped in play.
I slowly walked down,
my grandfather's stairs.
Made of stones and memories,
both needed repairs.
At the end of the long hall,
in the kitchen she sat.
Alone for a decade,
her inner smile was flat.
We walked for a kilometer,
to offer respect and our praise.
She taught my father and I,
to work hard in our days.
I thought of this simple memory,
during my sister's wedding we danced.
Early childhood sweetness bloomed,
we were mutually entranced.
She will always be my grandmother,
but for now she is gone.
I enjoyed our talks,
while cutting her lawn.
She taught me to be both strong and soft,
and in truth there's no shame.
Her love, stories, and silent actions,
helped carve the person I became.
by Martin Dejnicki
My Life
When I look in the mirror,
nothing seems static.
My life is quite simple,
and rarely dramatic.
Most of my days,
are surely a blur.
Hard work with play,
my brain seems to stir.
Abundant laughter,
is the dance in my life.
Usually expressed,
by my short little wife.
What can I say,
I know I am lucky.
Some things that I eat,
are way beyond yucky.
Showers are rare,
I prefer them outside.
We're natural beings,
there's no need to hide.
If you think I'm normal,
you're clearly wrong.
About my vast bookshelf,
I just wrote a song.
by Martin Dejnicki