My two grandfathers both wore
similar boots,
Laced up tightly and tied around
their ankles.
Black heavy boots,
habitually worn every day,
Many miles were walked
before bedtime hours.
Imprints of the earth’s
soil laden into their soles,
The toil of the land engrained
into leathery hands.
Journeying between
outlying abodes of kith and kin,
Tough old boots knew undulating
countryside tracks.
Country men had a
particular look in style and attire,
Trousers hitched high with
stripey braces held at waist.
One had a white curly
moustache and always wore a suit,
Both smoked ceramic pipes,
filled with blended tobaccos.
Childhood memories were
happy when visiting grandfathers,
They recounted stories
which held my awe in great suspense.
In later years, the pairs
of boots became vacant and unused,
Grandfathers and their worlds
became static and chair bound.
Life no longer required old
habits attached to working boots,
Comfy slippers became the uniform
of more sedentary years.
©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 14/01/2015
Poetry Jam
Prompt: ‘Shoes or Feet.’
I enjoy this reminiscence, Eileen. I can just picture those black, heavy work boots they used as they worked the land. I like the description of their work attire too. Similar to the attire of similar men in the USA at that period as well. And, ah the work boots eventually unused....I guess it happens to the best of men (and women). Everyone eventually ends up with those comfy slippers and chair bound. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteshoes also, clearly, have their statements to make
ReplyDeletemuch love
This is a great tribute to your grandfathers, portraying them using their boots first and then expanding the image. Your poem also reminded me of the stories my own grandfather used to tell. A great poem!
ReplyDeleteYou have draw a picture, here, of the archetypal patriarch in the pre-nuclear, family of the last century where threads of stories, simple pleasures, familiar smells and work ethic were passed down by the heads of the extended family - the grandfathers. An affectionate and inspired piece of writing, Eileen.
ReplyDeleteWhat wonderful memories of your grandfathers.
ReplyDeleteI hope I can pass that work ethic down to my grandchildren.
What a great way of establishing a story attached to working boots. Working boots for a working man or women. Nice.
ReplyDeleteAnd aren't the boots what we as children notice first...after all they are easier for children to see than adult faces.
ReplyDeleteEileen,
ReplyDeleteI am sure your gandfathers would thoroughly enjoy this poem.
Such a nice tribute to them.
Wonderful ...
Happy New Year
xx
shoes are a function of our environment...harsh environment calls for different shoes than the beach....and it depends on our own needs as well...my grandfather was a fireman so he had his boots by the door...so huge and clunky...and we used to try them on...
ReplyDeleteI like these memories of your grandfathers and their working boots, their style and lives. I was very fond of my grandmother's shoes as well and almost wrote about them.
ReplyDeleteGrandpa boots. What a lovely memory! (Wish I had my father's old army boots.)
ReplyDeleteThe memories of grandparents always fond. Beautiful poem
ReplyDeleteHow life changes and the seasons are reflected in boots, makes you remember the precious and hope for the future.
ReplyDelete