Memories of old and grey
Returning thoughts of a summers day
Greenhouse building, a work of love
Granddad and Grandson working all day
Fish and chips came, lunch was served
Our labours checked over, acutely observed
Then by tradition, after a meal
His pipe found ignition, five minutes more we would steal
Two hours spent, now half past four
Try all we might, we could not fit the door
Enthusiasm still did not wane
My Father and Uncles, through the gate they came
Checking our work, verdict was given
We had done it all wrong, they said in derision
I looked over to Grandad to see what he would do
He reached for his tobacco tin, his pipe lit anew
An hour are so later, our work was returned
To the state that we had it, we were right, the first time
He used our construction, for the rest of his life
So I will always remember, the smell of that pipe
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