~~ The Hand Dug Well ~~
He worked from morn to night digging buckets of earth.
Until to a well of water he gave birth.
His back was old and bent and hands of blisters was his lot.
But that hand dug well that gave us water, I never forgot.
He put us up a cabin that sheltered us from the cold.
This man of many wonders that he did, though he was old.
He had no help from neighbours, because we had none.
He worked in frigid weather, and in the burning sun.
Never did he complain about this hard and work filled life.
He overcame each problem and dealt with all the strife.
A home came from his hands, a home full of love.
When he passed away, we sent him to God's place above.
Grand pa, how we miss you, in each and every way.
To you I send my love and wish I could bring you back today.
© Norma Marek ~ 1 July 2001
Please respect author copyright, do not use or copy
poetry without first seeking permission from the author.
Painting ~ Walking With Gramps by
C. Michael Dudash
Midi used with permission from Margi Harrell ~
Please click HERE
to visit Llerrah Music
Web design and
Judy ~ Judy's Realm of Sunshine and Smiles