Emily May
For My Great Granddaughter
Today old Dodgy Dave,
was made a Great Granddad again,
with a great granddaughter Emily May,
weighing in at seven pound and four ounces.
Is he happy? I would say he is.
Looking in the mirror
another dozen grey hairs did appear.
One thing I can tell you,
she could grow up to be a pop singer
with the deafening lungs she has.
The new Granddad and Granny are coming around tonight
to toast baby Emily May,
with a couple of cups of tea
on the rocks,
or we might even splash out
on a coke.
Welcome to the crazy world
of your Great Granddad Dodgy Dave
my little Emily May
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
This Is Special Birthday For My Grandfather Father
I AM SO THANKFUL TO STILL HAVE MY GRANDDAD AND FATHER WITH US. THIS IS SPECIAL BIRTHDAY FOR GRANDDAD AND FATHER. WE ARE SO HAPPY TO STILL HAVE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER HEAR WITH ALL HIS GRANDCHILDEN AND CHILDEN. WE WISH YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY MANY ON THIS EARTH. WE ARE SO BLESS TO SEE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER TURN SEVENTY SIX YEAR OLD.THANK YOU GOD FOR GIVE US SEVENTY SIX WITH OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER. OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER WILL TURN SEVENTY SIX ON APRIL 17.WE THANK YOU FOR ALL DO FOR YOUR FAMLIY AND FRIEND. HE LIVE SEVENTY SIX YEAR ON EARTH. OUR GRANDDAD HAVE FOUR KIDS AND FIVE GRANDCHILDREN.WE THANK GOD STILL HAVE OUR GRANDDAD AND FATHER HEAR WITH US
poem by Courtney Robinson
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Bragging Rights
Bragging Rights
I’m feeling rather curious
If not down right ridiculous.
I’m married to a great grandma
She thinks I am peculiar
because I say I’m very glad
to be at last a great Granddad.
Although she will admit to me
in private that’s she’s glad to be
Allowed to call her son Granddad
a privilege she’s never had
but one she willing to pursue
if only for a week or two
The truth is we are pleased to be
part of a growing family.
We hope quite soon to get to know
our first great grandson Little Joe
My lady and I have no doubt
we have something to brag about.
As we grow old disgracefully
We will brag that’s a certainty.
15-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Place of Forgotten Memories
For years I’ve put odds and sods up into the roof space,
like old books, photographs, and the odd vase.
When my parents died I also put their memorabilia up there,
and now my loft holds many memories from over the years.
My grandson ventured up there and came down with a photograph,
he asked me why his picture was not in colour, and I began to laugh.
Of course it wasn’t him in the photograph it was his great granddad,
the resemblance was uncanny, which made me kind of sad.
The picture of my granddad was taken at the age of nine,
the same age as my grandson at this particular time.
I remember my granddad well especially in his later years,
and seeing him in my grandson fills me with tears.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Thunderbox
In Granddad’s garden there still stands
a thunder box. A monument
built lovingly by Granddads hands,
intended to be permanent,
But fashions change and indoor loos
took the place of earth closets
So now it has a different use
but he can cope with life’s upsets.
It houses now his garden tools
Green painted and in good repair
Granddad has little time for fools.
Who cannot change and will not dare.
But Granddad can and Granddad will
accept the world cannot stand still.
21/07/2007
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Dodgy Dave Tale) Plastic Flowers
(Dodgy Dave Tale) Plastic Flowers
This is another Dodgy Dave Tale that goes out
To all the romantics that have their doubts
See Dodgy states he is unromantically inclined
That could leave poor Vera maligned
(Vera his wife that this story is behind)
You see when your in love with a man
Women expect romantic gifts not just a hand
And Vera felt a little slighted here
Because it was flowers she lacked from her dear
So one day his wife and Dodgy Dave
Went out on the town not to misbehave
They decided to go to a Car Boot Sale
(Don't ask me what that is Dave knows that tale)
As they were walking along that day
Dodgy Dave came upon a plastic flower bouquet
Well he picked the thing up
And thought to himself...what luck
Now I have flowers to give to my gal
And she will think of me as her romantic pal
The moral of this silly story here
Is if you want to be unromantically clear
Give your loved one plastic flowers instead
And in return for your supper expect water and brown bread
28 Jan 2008
A Week That Was
This week has been not a very fun one,
With all its ups and downs.
First, it started with good news,
an email to say I had been awarded
another award for my poetry,
and then a friend tells me
they are leaving PH for a while.
Bad new for me there.
On Monday, I became a great granddad,
help! I am getting old!
My hair is getting grey and is beginning to fall out.
However, that was good news,
a little gift from heaven
called Emily Mae if I may be so bold.
My job is on a knife edge
with not knowing if I’ve got one or not,
and today I find another friend
has been driven’ away from PH because of harassment.
I hate to think what tomorrow will bring
being Friday the 13th.
12 July 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Len Is A Granddad
The day had finally come
and around 7 am the news came through
and it was official
Len was now a granddad new.
His emotions got the better of him
and his eyes began to leak tears of joy
for this new 8lb baby boy.
He felt like a bag of nerves
now the waiting was through,
and dawning his red and black leathers
mounted his yellow Red Bull mean machine
doing wheelies around the car park
and yelling to everyone he met
that he had joined that auspicious crowd
because he Len was now a granddad
and a proud moment in his life.
With red eyes, he went to work
his feet feeling like jelly,
a big smile on his face
and his brain going into a delirious state
that his students had to look after him.
Even the weather smiled with him
with the sun and sky of blue
as Len was now a granddad new.
19 January 2011
Author’s Note:
This poem was written for a card that I made up and gave a friend at work when he became a granddad for the first time.
poem by David Harris
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How I Became Known As Dodgy Dave
From time to time people ask me
how I got the name Dodgy Dave
and why I take no offence at it.
The story starts about six or seven years ago
when I joined a Western Re-Enactment Society.
I went to help build a western town
that eventually became know as Deadwood.
As the date for near completion came
the only building left to be finished was the Church.
The original builders had left it only half built.
The owner of the farm
on which the town is built
wanted it finished for our grand opening day.
Someone suggested that because of all the help,
I had given, why I don’t take it on
and they would help me finish it,
but I needed a town name
that would go along with the building,
I thought for a moment and then said
what about Reverend Mr Black
after the old Kingston Trio song.
So for a couple of years
I became known as Rev. Mr Black.
Two of my friends Buck and Caroline
(better know to one and all as Caz)
were planning their wedding.
They were going to have an official ceremony
on the Friday and on the Saturday;
they were to have another wedding in the town.
They asked if I would marry them in the town ceremony.
I told them I would be honoured.
Caz then went around telling everyone,
family and friends
that Dodgy Dave the vicar was going to marry them,
but he isn’t dodgy,
it’s just my pet name for him.
Soon everybody started calling me Dodgy Dave.
However, with every nice story
somehow sadness always intervenes.
Six weeks before their wedding,
this pretty woman who had renamed me Dodgy Dave
died at the tender age of thirty.
We held a wake for her in the town
on the day she and Buck were to marry.
It was a sad affair,
but her memory remains with me
every time someone calls me Dodgy Dave.
There are so many memories attached to that name.
It was never given out of malice,
but out of friendship sincere.
Now the name Dodgy Dave
has become very dear to me.
I use it all the time,
because when I do it reminds me
of the young woman with fair hair
whose friendship I treasured so
and I never want to let the memory of her go.
So there you have it
the story behind the christening
of me to Dodgy Dave
11 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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Granddad's Candy
Granddad offered candy
from a white paper bag
and you slowly took one
and put in your mouth
and the strong peppermint flavour
exploded on your tongue
as Granddad closed his eyes
and sank back
into his chair by the fire
and he said
if you go outside
to the john
be careful of the mutt
who sleeps there
and the spiders
which hang around
waiting for little boys
and look out
for the fairies
at the bottom of the garden
hidden amongst weeds
and you nodded
as you always did
and tried to swallow the candy
as fast as you could
and Granddad said
look over by the side
and pass me
the cigarettes and lighter
and don’t let
your grandmother see
or she’ll moan about me
and my breathing
and my heart
and you looked over the side
and picked up
his cigarettes and lighter
and brought them to him
and Gran said
from the kitchen
he’s not smoking
those cigarettes again is he?
And you said
looking at Granddad
hiding them behind his back
no Gran he’s just sucking
on a candy and he’s given me
one to suck and one to keep
and Granddad had his eyes
closed still
pretending to be asleep.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Joint At Deathbed
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed.
In the living room of
childhood memories
Inhaling and Exhaling
blue plumes of smoke
Hours before he
drew HIS
last breath.
And
sitting at his deathbed.
as the grandfather clock struck
and the streetlamp outside the window
was turned on
and later off
I made my peace with God
and all consuming time
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed
Putting my hand on
his
he spoke, his voice a pale whisper.
“Nothing can be done about it”
These last words to me
from a dying old man.
I smoked a joint
At my granddad’s deathbed.
Sweet soothing numbness
Held sadness and sorrow at bay.
Unspoken words of gratitude
milling around inside
but alas
a day too late.
and “nothing could be done about it”
I smoked a joint
at my granddad’s deathbed.
in cold cool contemplation
alone in the darkness, I understood:
All you hold dear will perish.
summer holidays,
friendships,
love,
life.
And no,
“nothing can be done about it”
The Old Man was right
poem by Carsten Thomsen
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(Dodgy Dave Tale) Angel On Earth
(Dodgy Dave Tale) Angel On Earth
Another Dodgy Dave Tale to converse
It seems David thinks he's not an angel or worse
He just doesn't understand
That an angel is someone that lends a hand
Friendship is the key you see
God's greatest most precious gift in deed
For a man who's heart is big and kind
Deserves those angel wings behind
30 Dec 2007
Dagenham Dave
Head in the clouds, and a mouthful of pie
Head in a blouse, everybody loves him
I see why
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dagenham dave
I love karen, I love sharon on the windowscreen
With never the need to fight or to question a single thing
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave
Hed love to touch, hes afraid that he might self-combust
I could say more, but you get the general idea
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Dagenham, dagenham
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Dagenham, dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dave, oh, dagenham, dagenham
Dagenham dave
Dagenham dave, dagenham dave
Oh, dave, oh, dave, oh, dave
Oh, dave
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rose Across The Sea
For My Good Friend JoAnn McGrath
Not so long ago I was joking
with a young lady across sea.
I told her that I was a vicar,
or at least pretend one.
My name was Dodgy Dave the Vicar.
A little while later
she wrote a poem aptly named,
The Vicar Is Quicker.
Since then she has written
quite a number more.
I tell her a funny story about me.
No sooner do I tell her the story
it appear as a Dodgy Dave Poetry.
In the time I have known her
not once have, I wrote a poem for her,
that rose across the sea.
She thinks of me as her big brother.
I find that as a compliment you see,
as my own real sister
does not want to know me.
Therefore, I have an adopted one
far away from me,
a rose across the sea.
Therefore, Joann
this poem is just for you,
from your friend,
that Dodgy quicker vicar
who rhymes with liquor.
A substance he never touches,
but I will raise my cup of tea
and say again,
this poem is just for you,
my rose across the sea.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What you wrote
What you wrote Emily
Two sunsets you have sent
And finished several stars
In competition.
Emily, You are great really
Caring life with ample freedom
Composing dark and light
Day and night at a time
Where in we live with action
And with emotion.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Granddad and Jean Harlow.
Granddad said he saw
Jean Harlow once
While making deliveries
to the studio lot
and there she was
he said
real hot
just there
and looking my way
and I was struck dumb
my lips stiffened
my eyes were glued
and as she walked by
there was that glint
of unhappiness
that caught my eye
and I wanted
to reach out
a hand and touch
the goddess
of my dreams
but then she was gone
and the delivery made
I made my way
out of the lot
the truck heading
for the gates
the whole panoramic view
behind me
and she
Jean Harlow
back there somewhere
waiting for the next shot
and there was me
leaving that slice
of hell or heaven
the fantasy lot
and Granddad
sitting by the fire
his gaze elsewhere
maybe thinking
of Harlow
just beyond
his sad stare
some where.
poem by Terry Collett
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A Great And Unusual Happiness
A GREAT AND UNUSUAL HAPPINESS
A great and unusual happiness
Came to me
When I saw and was with my granddaughter-
Her smile at four months
Her mother’s smile-
Her beauty- the beauty of innocence-
How each little smile of hers
Opened my heart and soul
And made me feel
As if never before
How simply happy and good life is-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Look At Granny Run Run
Look at granny run, run, and grandpa runnin close behind.
Look at granny run, run, theres something on grand-daddys mind.
He went to the doctor, got a brand new pill.
The doctor said, son, you aint over the hill.
Now he cant sit still.
Great, gosh, almighty, wont you ...
Look at granny go, go, faster than a greyhound bus.
Look at granny go, go, now grandpa gettin serious.
But he woke up in the middle of the night.
Said, lookie here baby, everythings alright.
It was such a fright.
Great, gosh, almighty, wont you ...
Look at granny run, run ...
Look at granny run, run, and grandpa gettin closer now.
No matter how she run, run, he gonna catch her anyhow.
He said, mama, quit your caryin on.
All I wants a little love before I am gone.
Aint nothin wrong.
Great, gosh, almighty, wont you ...
Look at granny run, run.
Look at granny run, run.
Yeah ...
Look at granny run, run.
Yeah ...
Look at granny run, run.
Yeah ...
Look at granny run, run.
Yeah ...
Look at granny run, run.
(to fade ...)
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Listen
Don’t listen to him,
Gran said,
indicating
with a nod
of her head,
to Granddad
in the other room,
sitting by the fire
with his loose clothes
holding in bones.
You stood by the door,
peeping through
the thin crack
between door
and frame,
your young eyes
like a hawk’s,
catching the view:
Granddad lighting up
a cigarette,
to set him off
on the cough
and spit and phlegm,
and Gran’s hazel eyes
lighting up with anger
and her tongue
like a viper’s
ready to condemn.
poem by Terry Collett
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Happy Birthday Sandra
For Sandra Fowler
Here he goes again
old Dodgy Dave forgetting
his poetry friend’s birthday,
only remembering at the last minute.
Happy Birthday Sandra
I hope you are having a wonderful one
with family and friends around you
to wish you all the happiness you deserve
for all the kind comments you plant here and there.
If you had a wish,
I wonder what it would be for,
to live a long life of happiness.
Well that I wish for you
and for you to make new friends
to mingle with the old ones everyday.
I will also wish you good health
and love to last you through the years,
and all the happiness you so rightly deserve.
Therefore, from this dodgy fellow in England
let me wish you a Happy Birthday
and may you always be my friend.
Happy Birthday Sandra.
4 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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