Weekly Scribblings Poem ~~ Grandpa my Model

My Grandpa H 

Grandpa was my favorite 

He said I was his as well 

He wore a hat and a scarf 

High top work shoes Overalls 

Grandma was favorite too 

She was mild very refined 

She was a school teacher ex 

Retired got along with kids 

Grandpa was the man to be 

When I grew up I wanted 

Wanted to be just like him 

Always had something going 

He was rough around the edge 

Cussed used words I couldn't say 

Never the Lord's name in vain 

Not vulgar still not for me 

We'd go for rides in his truck 

His stud horse was in the back 

Grandpa's horses were good stock 

For his cars he liked Buicks  

There were nine of us cousins 

We were first at the table 

Grandpa said woodbox* for us 

We wondered was he teasing? 

Celebrated fifty years 

Grandpa wanted cocktails 

Grandma said there would be none 

Grandpa's bar down in the barn 

And when we grew up 

I laid claim to be 

Most like my Grandpa 

*Woodbox, a wooden box holding firewood for the kitchen cook stove

 _ _ _ 

 - Poem and Photo Copyright,  Jimmiehov 2021 and 2016 ( https://jimmiehov.blogspot.com/2016/09/fridays-hunt-v210-j-is-for.html?m=1) , All Rights Reserved 

 - I am linked with Rosemary for writing her prompt, see below,  at Weekly Scribblings  #55 , https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/01/weekly-scribblings-55-what-you-resist.html

 - Rosemary invited us "to write about turning into one of (our) parents – or about resisting that possibility."