the yarn spinner

taken from my great-grandmother’s book of poetry, Where Childern Live (1958).

The Yard Spinner

Intent on every word, the small boy hears
A story woven of an old man’s years
That, with the telling, finds a space to grow
In splendor for a boy who wants it so,
And, as the truly wonderous tale unravels,
Along an old world trail a small boy travels —
A boy who hangs upon each chosen word,
As with the spinning yarn the air is stirred,
Until the hero-worshipper is led,
His hand held fast in grandfather’s — to bed.


  1. B says:

    Fathers and grandfathers make a man who he is…I am so lucky to have had the three I had.

  2. Jody Costa says:

    i miss my grandfather so much – thanks for the comment!

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