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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=564908" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Dear Irish Grandfather</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=564908" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">My grandfather recalled<br>Some days of old when he<br>Collected pieces of coal -<br>Black cotton - <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! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=564908" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">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 at the penny candy store!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Gayle+Sweeney">Gayle Sweeney</a></strong></div>

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