My Granddad

When granddad was a lad,times were so hard
 He used to catch wood pigeons for dinner,out in their back yard
With a long piece of string,tied to a stick
 Propping up a box trap,at the top,a heavy brick
A bait of corn was run up to the trap,granddad would lay in wait
 An unsuspecting pigeon,would end up on granddads plate
Dad often told me,about the man,my granddad I never knew
 I loved to hear the stories,of times so hard and true