Grandad’s Spoons

Grandad’s spoons against his knee
Cutlery cacophany
The sound it made me feel so free
When Grandad played his spoons for me.

Now the spoons are all I have
Of this old man who made me laugh
I hold them to my face to see
A face just like his memory

My Grandad’s spoons are silent now
No-one to play, no-one knows how
I wonder, where my Grandad’s at
Do they play spoons? Ratt tatt a tatt?