Uploaded July 2014 | Updated September 2026, 6 hours ago
I saw Heston cover this song and I couldn't resist...
This is dedicated to my Grandad...I went to his funeral today. The service was lovely...
I even wrote a poem about my grandad
Cogs and Springs
Sometimes I find it very hard to be nostalgic;
most of the memories I remember from my childhood
concern family members, whose personalities are twisted
into something overly dramatic, or overly hyped,
depending almost entirely on how irritated I was on that day.
Now that I'm talking about my Grandad,
I don't want to do that.
What can I say about him?
I don't want there to be a tale or tome,
or an invented history that chartered the great heights of his manhood.
No, I want to take pride in the fact that my Grandad was an ordinary man.
An enigma of a hero, with faults and flaws, but also strength and dreams
that captured more than simple starlight.
"The Great Grandad"...
He had a personality made up of clicking cogs,
A mechanical battle ground
where each gear sang with one part mischief,
99 parts mayhem for the rest of us.
Pull back the timeline further,
To the murky pictures dyed in black and white
On the television screen.
Dive down into the static to pluck out memories of
Bike riding and swimming lessons.
Each one a task, forcing us reach down inside ourselves
To find an inner perfection.
This only to be forgotten later on with a hearty helping of
Grandma's fish and chips.
I was lucky to be able to bond with my granddad over dancing.
My dancing lessons were a constant circus show, one that he
would expose through a most subtle snark.
It was a daze of spinning automatons and
A constant background static of orders, insults and clicking heels.
Grandad did it his own way because he made this daze understandable,
carving his way through the fields of skirted mules and their tippy toed nonsense.
He made dancing fun because his comments were all the more funnier.
As I reflect back on these times, I know that there were some very bad times,
Being stark and black and ones that most of us have hidden away
to leave rotting into dust.
Youth is bliss. The things we do remember are fickle and tend to fade.
But what I like to think is that my Grandad started a legacy of tiny blossoms,
ones that have slowly sprouted into bigger and better flowers
with each coming generation.
I wear his hat with honour knowing that what he wanted,
I (and the majority of you all)
Have been able to fulfil.
My Grandad taught me a valuable lesson.
If you want something bad enough, work for it.
Keep running forward and hold out your hand.
You don't need to be the tallest or strongest or fastest
You just need to be you.
Keep your oil burning and you can shine out in any situation.
He was a man of cogs and springs,
Ones that have formed the foundation of a machine
That loved him very dearly.
And although time may corrode these springs,
Into a rotten debris of rust and dust.
They will keep on turning for generations to come.
RIP Grandad...I hope you are doing okay where ever you are.
Download: mediafire.com/download/qpwva9agt0kgtw5/Once+upon+a+dream.MP3
Original Song: Llana Del Ray
Karaoke: youtube.com/watch?v=roC9AGbJXOE
Also, if you like the picture, my friend EvilVampireDucky is doing commissions: evilvampireducky.deviantart.com/gallery They're very affordable. You won't regret it ;w;
I saw Heston cover this song and I couldn't resist...
This is dedicated to my Grandad...I went to his funeral today. The service was lovely...
I even wrote a poem about my grandad
Cogs and Springs
Sometimes I find it very hard to be nostalgic;
most of the memories I remember from my childhood
concern family members, whose personalities are twisted
into something overly dramatic, or overly hyped,
depending almost entirely on how irritated I was on that day.
Now that I'm talking about my Grandad,
I don't want to do that.
What can I say about him?
I don't want there to be a tale or tome,
or an invented history that chartered the great heights of his manhood.
No, I want to take pride in the fact that my Grandad was an ordinary man.
An enigma of a hero, with faults and flaws, but also strength and dreams
that captured more than simple starlight.
"The Great Grandad"...
He had a personality made up of clicking cogs,
A mechanical battle ground
where each gear sang with one part mischief,
99 parts mayhem for the rest of us.
Pull back the timeline further,
To the murky pictures dyed in black and white
On the television screen.
Dive down into the static to pluck out memories of
Bike riding and swimming lessons.
Each one a task, forcing us reach down inside ourselves
To find an inner perfection.
This only to be forgotten later on with a hearty helping of
Grandma's fish and chips.
I was lucky to be able to bond with my granddad over dancing.
My dancing lessons were a constant circus show, one that he
would expose through a most subtle snark.
It was a daze of spinning automatons and
A constant background static of orders, insults and clicking heels.
Grandad did it his own way because he made this daze understandable,
carving his way through the fields of skirted mules and their tippy toed nonsense.
He made dancing fun because his comments were all the more funnier.
As I reflect back on these times, I know that there were some very bad times,
Being stark and black and ones that most of us have hidden away
to leave rotting into dust.
Youth is bliss. The things we do remember are fickle and tend to fade.
But what I like to think is that my Grandad started a legacy of tiny blossoms,
ones that have slowly sprouted into bigger and better flowers
with each coming generation.
I wear his hat with honour knowing that what he wanted,
I (and the majority of you all)
Have been able to fulfil.
My Grandad taught me a valuable lesson.
If you want something bad enough, work for it.
Keep running forward and hold out your hand.
You don't need to be the tallest or strongest or fastest
You just need to be you.
Keep your oil burning and you can shine out in any situation.
He was a man of cogs and springs,
Ones that have formed the foundation of a machine
That loved him very dearly.
And although time may corrode these springs,
Into a rotten debris of rust and dust.
They will keep on turning for generations to come.
RIP Grandad...I hope you are doing okay where ever you are.
Download: mediafire.com/download/qpwva9agt0kgtw5/Once+upon+a+dream.MP3
Original Song: Llana Del Ray
Karaoke: youtube.com/watch?v=roC9AGbJXOE
Also, if you like the picture, my friend EvilVampireDucky is doing commissions: evilvampireducky.deviantart.com/gallery They're very affordable. You won't regret it ;w;
