August 19th…“WHO INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THESE STORIES AND POEMS FOR US?” Note: The child’s name, Ronan, mentioned in this poem is the youngest son of Elliott’s daughter, Rachel Amanda Noorlun Hanna.
POEM – “Good Morning, Dear Grandfather” by N. Elliott Noorlun
Good Morning, dear Grandfather, Your memory still shines bright,
As I arise upon each dawn, And gaze upon the sight,
Of the glorious Silver Dollar, You once had gifted me,
Ten years older than your birth, My eyes can plainly see,
The day you stood with me inside, Farm kitchen by the stove,
And reached into your bib overalls, That fabric treasure trove.
A sparkling Silver Dollar, With features crisp and fine,
I just about squealed out with joy, For your treasure now was mine.
“That coin was 10 years old, When first I started life.”
“It now will dwell, In your young hands, Through happiness or strife.”
I knew that he was quiet, A man who chose each word,
And yet, when well inspired, In kitchen I often heard,
Both he and our dad, Would chat on end, As stories would unfurl,
While pipe or cigarette smoke, Arose in happy curl.
So many things, Grandfather, I would’ve liked to’ve known,
From life’s adventures you had lived, To the crops that you had sown.
I know that the State of Iowa, Was where you had your birth,
And that you had a love affair, With farming God’s good earth.
I’ve heard the worst that you would say, Was Norski phrase “fey faen (dirty devil)!”,
But other than that, You’d hold your tongue, At what you looked upon.
You may not have known, How you touched my life, As also your good son, Russ,
It’s then I decided, I’d tell of MY life, So our ‘future’ could know of me thus,
So that tiny Ronan and others, Who yet have experienced birth,
Can come to these stories, And get to know, Grandpa Elliott’s time on earth.
So Good Morning, Dear Grandfather, As you rest ‘neath farmer’s sod,
I promise to honor your story, And mine as this life I trod. ><> 🙂
Norwegian Farmer's Son 