HIis Stories ( Only Told When Asked For)

Grampa  Les was indeed a humble man. but how I loved to hear his (true) stories when I would ask or beg him to tell me.  This poem came from this.


                                       He didn't need or want
                                         to seek out anyone to
                                           tell his stories to.
                                        But if someone would ask,
                                          his life would unfold
                                            in such a manner
                                        that his listeners would be
                                          completely captivated.
                                             I'd ask him for stories
                                         as he did his daily chores---
                                           The boy watching a moose
                                             from the hayloft
                                         where  he had sought refuge
                                            from the charging menace.
                                               Then there was the young man
                                          saving his family home
                                             by beating down grassfire flames
                                                 with wet burlap bags---
                                           I never grew tired of
                                              hearing them, even when
                                                  his mind was only
                                           strong enough
                                               to set
                                                    on repeat.