Saturday, 14 March 2015


He heard her call out
"The family are coming"
He was gardening

No that was not true
He uttered a blasphemy
Sitting in the shed

His short quiet time
Reading Sunday newspaper 
Would now be ruined

Whole plague of monkeys 
Would invade and take over
Keeping him awake

No siesta now
Two children running around
And one in her pram

She was born last year
Sweet favorite of his wife
Her name Abigail

He cleared the deck first
Old ones would want water
Put sprinkler on lawn

They arrived on time
He was given a new job
As baby was crying

He took her for a walk 
By the rustling Aspen trees
Not that far away

She looked up at him 
As he smiled and talked to her
Slowly fell asleep

He still chatted on 
Of how beautiful she was 
Shed a loving tear

He made his way home
Drying his eyes as he came
For his cup of tea

Image found at


  1. Abigail - beauty...a peaceful stroll away wonder they're both smiling :)

  2. Enjoy her now before she joins the monkeys! A delightful poem.

  3. I have to put up with 34 little monkeys every day and one is called Abigail so I know what she'll be like in 8 years time!

  4. It sounds like this was well worth having his short quiet time ruined for!!

  5. I always have to stop myself to make time, after dismissing the imposition, for the joy of grandchildren. Randy

  6. Although grandchildren often leave me exhausted, their antics, words and thoughts, live long in memory, longer than most...


  7. Our grandparents used to call us monkeys a's all part of the relationship between young and old.

  8. Oh, the disturbances that wee ones sometimes make!

    Another Baja Whirl