Grandpa's Corncob Pipe

 

Grandpa’s Corncob Pipe

I have my grandpa’s corncob pipe

It sits upon my desk

I put it in its carousal

So that its bowl may rest

I hold the pipe up to my nose

Take in its glorious scent

It takes me back to yesteryear

To a time of lives well spent

The scent runs through my body

Quite nearly touches my soul

It tells me many secrets

Buried deep within its bowl

It tells of history, life and love

Of how they came to be

It all started with the fair

Of St. Louis’ history

He came over on a ship

He was a royal heir

He brought Spain’s exhibition

To the great World’s Fair

She was an educator

She lectured on the arts

She viewed Spain’s exhibition

And there he stole her heart

They had a baby daughter

Born early the next year

She brought to them great happiness

A life filled with good cheer

But he had a calling to go back

To his life across the sea

He had a son there waiting

To be in his company

She would not go, she was afraid

Their lives might be under threat

A civil war was brewing

She feared it might beget

He went ahead all by himself

He said he would come back

But there his life was ended

An assassin did attack

There is so much yet left to tell

But patient we must be

For in due time the corncob pipe

Will reveal its history

There are yet many secrets

Just waiting to be told

Inside my grandpa’s pipe of corn

Buried deep within its bowl

Copyright Catherine Coyle Murphy 1995