My grandfather recalled <br />Some days of old when he <br />Collected pieces of coal - <br />Black gold - <br />From the train tracks in his town, our U.S.A. <br />In his hands he'd hold <br />Pieces he brought home - coal to burn in a pot belly stove - <br />The only way sometimes <br />For him and his 'Pa'to keep warm back then in the days of old. <br />That's a story he told me. <br />I remember as a little girl <br />Walking along the road to the little one room candy store - the road that was <br />Part of my world - <br />By the greenhouses where flowers grew for market. <br />My friends and I looked for coke bottles amoung the tall grasses <br />Worth not one cent but two! <br /> <br />Each small glass bottle we found meant two pieces of penny candy - <br />Like a Christmas stocking feast - making our hearts soar.. <br />My grandfather found coal <br />But lots of times we got candy from the penny candy store!<br /><br />Gayle Sweeney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-dear-irish-grandfather/
