Grandma’s Jumper

So many, many words
Floating all around us 
From sublime to absurd
Their meanings oft’ reduced
To txt

Some like grandma’s jumper
Knitted with love
Left hanging, unworn
Until it’s too late

Others, finely crafted
By the spinner’s needle
Fill the atmosphere 
With chatter over beer
To the delight of the overseers

Too long for many
When a tweet is sweet,
Periods, bring a full stop
And the last line is drowned
By the first word 

Once well versed,
A part of the whole
Insightful, sharp and droll
Now just gangs of Harleys
And the biker’s moll

The Novel
Modernity’s demoted
To a small n.
Literature ,hanging beside
Grandma’s discarded jumpers

But whilst I breath
I will try to weave
The shabby threads of my existence
And be happy wrapped
Unfashionably and perhaps poorly
In my ancestor’s wordy attire.

About jrbsays

Just a regular married father of three type of guy. Writer of Haiku, founder of and other bits and other bobs.
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2 Responses to Grandma’s Jumper

  1. ahhh the slowly erording art of wordsmithing…music for the soul.Love it! 🙂

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