Papa, they say the earth is gentle,
Like the last hug you gave me—
That’s how it is when it holds the ones it loves,
Just like you always did.
Now I imagine her arms cradling you,
The way you once cradled me—
Steady and warm, while telling your old stories.
Papa, I remember your laughter—
It was the church’s favourite hymn.
Your smile was a prayer.
How can I get them back?
Where could I ever find them now?
Your favourite chair sits empty,
Yet the air around it still knows your name.
Your walking stick waits patiently by the door,
Longing for the gentle sound of your feet—
It still refuses to believe you won’t return.
And we—
Yes, I—
Still wander through your room,
Holding the echo of your voice like an egg…
Afraid to crack it,
Afraid to let it slip away.
Grandpa, I still remember the day you slipped away.
The sky did not cry rain, as they said—
It cried light, it cried peace,
As though heaven itself knew you had come home.
The soil may have closed over you,
But it cannot close over the seed—
The seed of love you planted in us.
Grandpa, I hope the soil welcomed you with your favourite meal,
And heaven made you a new chair in your favourite colour.
I hope they sang your favourite song.
Rest now, in the field where the yams never spoil,
And the harvest is always sweet.
We will meet again, as you promised,
At the river that knows no drought—
Where tears are not for sorrow,
But for joy.
Farewell, Papa.
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Author:
Fumilayo bayo (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 8th, 2025 18:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments3
I feel your words so much. I still look at my own Father's chair and miss him so much . His Caps still hang on the Peg. Fine Poem.
I'm sorry dear, I hope heavens treated them well.
Thank you for your review
A beautiful tribute to a grandfather past and the memories he left behind. Nicely written
A heartfelt and beautifully written write to their beloved Grandfather, fond memories, written with love and care, nicely expressed
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