The Boy From Waspik

 
My Opa is with out a doubt,
one of the most kind and gentle
souls I have had the privilege
to have met
A man of devout faith
grand-sire to me
a doubting 'Thomas'
if there ever was one..

Boy could Opa spin a yarn
spun like an Aussie pro
but he was a maestro
he would teach us about growing up
in war torn Holland
about how the boy
from Waspik got up to
many a misadventure
But Opa would always make sure
the story had a happy ending
many with a moral of the story
type message

He would name all my friends Brian
and all my sisters Penelope
didn't matter who you where
it was always Brian or Penelope
probably saved a lot of confusion

I remember as a wee tacker
going to central markets
How he would drop twenty and fifty cent pieces
with the odd gold coin, for good measure
Sometimes he would walk a few stalls up
pay for an apple or pear
quickly run up to me and excitedly whisper
"Michael look what i stole for us"
man that fruit tasted so sweet

I remember one gruesome movie night
watching band of brothers
Telling me stories of occupied Holland
which for the life of me can't remember


Now I don't believe in heaven
but, if there is a god
I am sure Opa must be an angel
because an angel he was to me