My great-aunt wrote this poem about Grampa (her older brother) for his and Gramma's 50th Anniversary...
The Nine Year Old Boy
by Polly
Many years ago, on a certain day
A baby girl came here to stay.
And a little boy just nine years old
Had a birthday present, so he was told.
“Come see your present” mother said
As she lay at home in her bed.
A nine year old boy, feeling quite shy
Went near her bed to stand neat by.
Hoping and hoping for a real nice toy
For wouldn’t that be just nice – oh boy!
When our mother turned the blanket on the bed
Where was a baby, all wrinkled and red!
That was no present, no wonderful toy
What a disappointment for a nine year old boy.
But he survived and so did I
Even though I wasn’t the apple of his eye.
And over the years we grew quite close
As brothers go, he is the most.
Then he met Clara, a wonderful pal
As a wife and sister, she’s a real great gal.
Now they are in their golden years
When I think if it, it brings the tears.
For as close as a brother and sister can get
The years of love are all with us yet
So brother enjoy your wife and life
And pass by all the troubles and strife.
We are still as close as will ever be
And Happy 50th Anniversary.
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