Grandad And His Friend

I wrote this poem last Christmas (Did it really pass that quickly?) The poem is a childhood memory of my Grandfather. He was an admired boxer who raised a lot of money for charity and also a fairground champion and Psychiatric nurse. He was one of the most gentle people that I have ever had the pleasure to know, everyone trusted him and thought highly of him and the Robins that returned year on year to land on his shoulder and feed from his hand were testament to this gentleness.

I remember him telling me a story about him getting in trouble with his mother (My Great Grandmother). You see, she didn't like him boxing, as back then the rules were nearly non-existent and there was a high risk of serious injury or even death in extreme cases. He found out about a boxing venue in Liverpool where he could win some money so that he could give it to charity. He was very young and didn't have any way to get to Liverpool, so he stowed away on the Milk Train. He had his fight, but his opponent wasn't playing fair, he'd put metal inside his gloves and one of the blows that my Grandfather received took a chunk off his nose, in the third round. When he complained that the guy obviously was packing weight, he pleas fell on deaf ears and at this point he realised it was a house scam. He knew he was a little out of his depth, not being from that area and being totally alone. Not to be deterred, he came out in the fourth round and knocked his opponent out, got the money for his charity work and stowed away once more on the milk train back home.

He told me the fight was nothing compared to the wrath he suffered when his mother saw his bloody face and disfigured nose. "Was it worth it, yes! and would I do it again, yes!" To me this was an example of A Gentleman, he was strong mentally and physically, but he was so kind and generous that you wouldn't even know it. Anyway, this is my tribute of-sorts to this great man.


Every year a robin came
and every year that bird appeared
knew that frosty Christmas neared
Big red saint, all white his beard.

Every year a robin came
Rested gently on grandfather's arm
Grandad with his smile and charm
Gained their trust, year on year

Always when this robin appeared
knew that frosty Christmas neared
Those days of past have melted away
but in my heart those pair do stay
Grandfather and his red breasted friend

Every year a robin came
and every year that bird appeared
knew that frosty Christmas neared.