Down the endless garden
to a hand-built shed of wonders
and little me, sitting with my grandad
listening to all the voices
pushing through the static
What magic in those wires!
The narrow band, the wide
The squelch and the gain
The whistle and the whine
sounds I’ll never forget
The spectrum of a planet
chattering
Such wisdom in rough fingers
so deft upon the dial
gently they’d spin the roulette wheel
and flip between tunings
I was constantly in awe
at this window on the world
My ear up against the glass
of infinite possibility
and my grandad’s gentle teaching
explaining everything
We’d eavesdrop on conversations
clattering
fizzing through the airwaves
speaking so quickly
in strange new cadences
We’d hear calls to prayer
that sounded nothing like
the tuneless church bells of home
‘Where’s the microphone’ I’d say
‘can we speak back?’
he’d remind me
‘the most important thing, sometimes
is just to listen’
O, I was learning…
And when we were done
he’d disconnect the aerial
and gently warn me
how lightning storms
could blow up the receiver
O, how powerful, how dangerous
how exciting!
Charlie, Alpha
India, Romeo
Oscar
Come back…
[2020]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 
So good Tom , this trip back into the past……
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Thanks Don – I’m really pleased you enjoyed. I wish he was still around and we could talk about the world now that I’ve seen it for myself. 🙂
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This is super lovely… Wonderfully penned
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Thank you so much! So kind of you to say. I wasn’t sure if it would be of interest to anyone other than me, so it’s extra special to hear you say that. 🙏🏼
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This is great Tom… So much of warmth… Innocence of a child… Happiness of life..
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Thank you! 🙂 I’m finding as I get older I want to write more about my youth, look again at little moments and experiences and (and like you say) see the world through those innocent eyes again…
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Yes, you should continue with this…will love to read it..
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🙏🏼 Your encouragement means a lot. Thank you!
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This is wonderful, Tom! and the picture is adorable 😊 You were made to be behind the microphone.
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Ah thanks Kim – sometimes I think a poem is just too personal to mean anything to anyone else but I hope it will and I’m so pleased you got something out of it. Sadly, I couldn’t find a photo of me in my grandad’s radio shed but the one above looks a lot like the one I know exists in a drawer somewhere…
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Amazing…. and the accompanying image adorable!!
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Haha, thanks and yes they are!
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“they” ?? :)) I only saw one photo, maybe there are more I can’t see… :))
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Oh I just mean ‘they’ whoever they are… I have a very similar photo but couldn’t find it anywhere so that one is a random from an internet search. I’ll replace it with one of me when I find it… 🙂
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Ah okay… actually I did think that photo was of you haha!! well, anyway, if it was unclear, I meant your poem was amazing. Really, that was a short review but it really is. I love memoir-style things, and this feels to have a double meaning also, which I like as well. Beautifully done!
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Hi, nominated you for a Liebster Award. No need to participate at all. Your poetry is really really really good, so had to share that!
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You’re too kind Benjamin. Thank you! 🙂
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Welcome! Well-deserved, too!
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Thanks for sharing your experience! I never had a granddaddy, or parents if we’re honest!
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Glad you enjoyed Delia. 🙂 He was the first great story-teller I ever knew and his technical teachings gave me the skills I’ve used to build a career so it’s rewarding to finally put him into a poem of which I can feel proud.
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Enjoyed this very much Tom, and it resurrected a few memories for me too!
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Thanks Peter. 🙂 I hadn’t realised this poem was from 2020, I thought I wrote it last October… Memory is such a strange and elastic thing. And I’m grateful for them all (mostly).
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It was only yesterday that I was nobut a lad!
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