A Grampa
Moved in
Just down the street
I thought that he was really neat
He had big feet.

He wore big clogs
Made of wood
And,
Just like every Grampa should,
He invented,
Just because he could.

And he always said,
As he scratched his head,
He said, “Timmy, m’boy,
I think it’d been keen,
If only,
If only,
I could’ve seen
The Test Flight
Of the Daisy McQueen.”

“Grampa Sam, or Grampa Joe,”
(he had so many names, I didn’t know
Which one was really real, so
I called him them all, and he didn’t mind.
Their total number? Ninety-nine.)

“Grampa,” I asked. “Who was he?
The test flight, or something, of Davey McBee?”

“No, no, m’lad,” he said with a smile.
“Davey McBee is a crocodile.
But the Daisy McQueen, now there’d be a sight
To see her sailing off into the night.”

And then he said,
As he shook his head,
He said, “Timmy, m’boy,
It would’ve been keen,
If only,
If only,
You could’ve seen
The Test Flight
Of the Daisy McQueen.”

“But what is she?” I asked, eyes open wide.
“And why didn’t you see her test flight?
What happened? And why? And when? By who?
I could’ve been there, right?” Inside, I knew
That this test flight was something important indeed,
So I asked him, in an eleven-year-old’s plead.

“Oh, oh young lad,” Old Nick cried,
Then he sat down, on his chair, and he sighed.
“I wasn’t born yet, and neither were you,
So that answers questions Why and Who.

As for What and When, the answer is this:
1842, in a land of bliss,
Back in the old country, where streets were made
Of solid gold! and people were paid
With large dubloons! and dollar bills!
Where cats wore tails, and fish had gills…

And the Daisy McQueen was built back there
By someone who breathed the fresh, clean air

And wanted to know what it would be like
To fly in the sky, like a, bird on a bike!
So he made a Great Flying Automobile,
And some people doubted him,
Thought it not real.

But once they saw her in the sky,
They believed, lad! They did! And they shouted 'Oh my!'”

And then he said,
As he rubbed his head,
He said, “Timmy, m’boy,
Don’t you think it’d been keen,
If only,
If only,
We could’ve seen
The Test Flight
Of the Daisy McQueen.”

“And then what happened?” was the question I posed.
And Old John said, “Why, no one knows.
She just flew off into the sun,
Ne’er seen again by anyone.

But,” he paused, twinkle in eye.
“Through skill, and Pure Chance, I managed to buy
The Blueprints! the Plans! Directions too!
I got them! And you know what we’ll do?
We’ll remake the McQueen! Yippee! Wahoo!”

He then broke out in song, and danced a bit, too.

(I said before he had big feet,
And when he danced, it was quite sweet
To see him leap in his clogs, which were black.
Funny, though; Old he was, with ne’er Bad Back.

Maybe, p’raps, cause he invented
Many things I now take for granted;
Maybe that was the reason he was so Fit,
And had a Sharp Mind, and very quick Wit.)

I still remember him,
Rolling his eyes,
Grin on his lips
As he looks to the skies,
Saying, “Timmy, m’boy,
We both think it’d been keen,
If only,
If only,
We could’ve seen
The Test Flight
Of the Daisy McQueen.

But enough of this nonsense!” Will said with a bark.
“Now we must act! Come along! Let’s embark
On a wonderful journey, through books, through Time,
Unlocking the secret of brains, yours and mine.
With these blueprints, some tools, your Youth and my Age,
Together we’ll write a new history page!
But Tim,” he said, voice filled with warning.
“Tonight is it late. Let us start in the morning.”

Go on back to the Orphan House, after that day?
My immediate reaction: “Uh-uh! No way!”
But alas, that decision was not mine to make
So, until my adulthood, I had to take
What was given to me, and use it with pride.

That night was the longest night ever.

I tried
To fall asleep, many times, but I wouldn’t.
Or rather, from excitement, I more likely couldn’t.
Not until the new day’s sun
Did I dare to dress and run
Down the street, past house 5, round the corner, and there
Lay The Inventing Place of Mr. Boivert.

Once I got to Grampa’s house, I could see
That he was inside there, waiting for me.
So I ran to door, turned the knob, and went in
And Grampa Tom, he said “Now Tim,
It is time, probably past time, for me to show you
Where all of my inventing I do.”
And he led me to his Hidden Garage.
I opened the door…

And I stood there, eyes filled with wonder,
Glancing back at Grampa Dodge.

“So Tim,” he said, gleam in his eye.
“Long are the years I have asked myself Why
But now, with some help, my Dream will come true!
Let’s get started.” And suddenly, out of the blue,
He began to say what he always said
When he rolled his eyes and scratched his head.
“Oh, Timmy, m’boy,
It’s going to be keen!
Finally,
Finally,
See what was seen:

THE TEST FLIGHT
OF THE
DAISY MCQUEEN!”

We rolled up our sleeves and got right to work;
Nothing stopped my Grampa Birk!
We sawed, we hammered, long into the night,
Untill Gramps paused, and said “All right,
We’ll have to stop to get some rest,
But don’t you worry, lad, I know the best!
You don’t have to go back to your place
If you’d rather live with my wrinkly face.”

I stayed, and that made the old man very happy,
E’en if he weren’t the type to go sappy.
And as soon as we woke up, he and I
Ate, for our breakfast, blueberry pie.

Thus began many years working with Huilding.
He taught me a lot, and not all about building.
As we sawed and hammered and sweated and stuff,
I learnt fractions, sciences, and Heppliobuff.

I learnt many things in that little old shop,
Like how rabbits eat cheese, and parrots go Hop.
And while soldering metal and hammering nails,
He and I planned a trip. First to Prince of the Whales

And then off to France, and Egypt, and Mars
(I heard that’s where they invented cars)
And Spain, and Africa, Washington, Greece,
And then up to the clouds, where sheep get their fleece.

This trip would be made inside our creation
Which Grampa and I called ‘The Lovely Sensation’.
(Y’see, Daisy McQueen was already taken,
And it was not right to call flying things ‘Kraken’,
So Edward and I got our brains all a shakin’.
What we came up with: ‘TLS’ and ‘Pig Bacon’)

At last, after many a sweat and a nail,
The Lovely Sensation was ready to sail!
It took many years, and Grampa was Old
And I was a young man, fearless and bold.

Alas, Grampa Smithy grew sick, needed care,
But before he could ask, I was already there
With some soup, a pillow, blankets to keep warm.

I thought he’d get better, but he soon took my arm
And asked, “Tim, please, oh Tim, promise me this…”
He coughed. “Hear my last, final wish:

Take our creation, and fly far away.
Maybe, perhaps, you’ll return here someday…

But travel the world, do what you want.
Don’t say it’s difficult, don’t say you can’t,
Cause you can, and you will. Promise me, Tim.”

And tearfully, sadly, I promised to him.

Then he spoke in a whisper, but his eyes had a smile.
He said, “Tim, I shan’t be seeing you for a while,
For this breath that I take may well be my last;
So from now on, I shall stop reliving the past.”

And then he said,
As he lay in his bed,
He said, “Timmy, m’boy.
I hope it’ll be keen,
When you’re flying,
And flying,
Just like it had been
In the Test Flight
Of the Daisy McQueen.”