Poem... Mess – What Mess?

 This poem was printed in a Carer – Grandparent magazine. I'm on limited time today, so just one poem. Giddy

Mess, What Mess?

The advent began as an artwork I guess,
But then, manifested, in to such a great mess,
"Um, Grandad," he'd asked with a plaintive plea,
Wide eyes so big, staring up, pleadingly.

"Grandad, I need to make something for flies,"
"Oh, do you?" Grandad executes two sighs,
Then adds, "What do you need son?" as out he breathes,
"Well, I need flour, sugar, and a few tea leaves."

"Oh no, my goodness, not again, Tom,
Yesterday's mess on the path has not gone!"
But Tom is confused, of course he can't guess
What constitutes a terrible mess!

"But I need..." "No you don't!" Grandad's now so perplexed,
"No more fly spray, Thomas, I'm getting quite vexed!"
"Well, can I do painting? I need something to do,
And yesterday's paint on the path's wearing through!"

"It's flour and water, Tom, and at your age,
I was out growing cabbages, parsley and sage.
I'll give you the spade for digging out weeds,"
Now Grandad is thinking of his special needs.

"But Grandad, I'll get in a terrible fix,
'Cause Grandad, you know I AM only six!
And teacher says I'm the artistic kind,
I need special things to develop my mind."

So Grandad just sighs, and lays down his spade,
Would he change it? Of course not, for his life is made
Up of caring, and sparing the rod,
He'll probably pray though, for patience from God.

For once an old man thought his child-rearing had gone,
Until his daughter brought home little Tom,
And God has shown that what once was a mess,
Can now be considered artistic, no less!