My Grandfather

This poem is about my grandfather, Len.

Len once was strong and strode the earth,
With a rifle and a pack;
He milked this life of all its worth,
And then he gave it back.

Len lived life hard and lived life well,
But the years took their toll,
For all whom in this coil dwell,
Depart with just their soul.

Time stole all but just Len's shell,
He breathed, and little more,
His waking hours spent in hell,
As he rapped on heaven's door.

Then, in due time, there came the day,
When the pain and sorrow fled;
Len gave his body back to clay,
And lay still upon his bed.

I fancy now Len walks in freedom,
As he did in years passed,
Amongst the trees of distant Eden,
Where death has lost its grasp.