I pictured my ancestor draped in long flannel cloth,
with thick rimmed glasses caressing his nose,
sturdy stick with curved knight handle leaning across his leg,
a pair of compact denture riveted to his jaw,
historical time piece wound loose on his wrist,
plain soles of rich canvas adorning his feet,
partial stubs of grizzly beard gaining thorough prominence,
angularly crafted slender nose breeding amidst steel Grey eyes,
a bunch of faded parchment stashed in his waist coat pocket,
silken fingers with tiny nail, bereft of shining jewels,
short neck embedded well within shoulder sockets,
a charismatic glow captivating millions of youth in its reflection.
I pictured him sweating like a bull in his days of strength,
pedaling through remote corners of the town,
wrestling with pure professionals in the boxing ring,
earning life bestowing fodder for his army of children,
swimming past stormy channels of overwhelming hardship,
he had lived all life like an unconquered dictator,
never yielding an inch from territories of righteousness,
blaming none other than himself for his balance of misdeed,
with the feather tipped pen lying close to his heart,
and his rocking chair swaying violently still decades after,
he left for his heavenly abode;
O! yes I had a proud premonitions of whom I was a descendant,
as I tried even harder to picture my ancestor.
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