He Made Me a Brother

Just wanted to share this with everyone. I wrote it last year after accepting the Third Degree and becoming a Master Mason. My grandfather was there at the ritual and it touched me so much I was inspired to write poetry, which rarely do and rarely do well.

He Made Me A Brother

Of few things recalled from days of my youth
Fondly remembered that deep voice that soothed,
Happily sitting on the pilled grey couch,
Sitting tall, trying in vain to not slouch,
Watching the game, “Ding!” the popcorn is done
Shared on his lap, he made me his grandson.

Now losing a parent is something shared
One way or other we all have to bear.
Lacking a mother both we have endured
Not a worse feeling could I have incurred,
‘Til at her funeral, tears come and gone,
Took upon his chest, he made me his son.

Studying his temper I came to find
An even manner, gentle acts, words kind.
His only son, I most desired his light;
Truth I discovered one curious night—
Asked honestly, his reply unfettered
“Good company kept makes good men better.”

Of men as himself, he made me a member
Cherished custom from which I found candor,
Raised from the earth a new man is born.
Naught is dearer than that Saturday morn’,
Once taken by grip stronger than others
Raised to his arms, he made me a brother.

Once taken by grip stronger than others
My Papa made me more than his Brother.