Post by Poet Lady Rose on Oct 2, 2006 10:45:51 GMT -5
She's All Mine
She's the one with her dark wavy hair up in a bun ... the one who always knows how to make things fun; She's the one who serves me warm milk with a smidgeon of coffee and cream ... the one who sews stuffed animals--every child's dream.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '50s.
She's the one in the kitchen simmering the stew ... the one who picks homegrown tomatoes, tiptoeing through the dew; She's the one who at her naughty granddaughter shakes the biggest wooden s-p-o-o-n ... the one who takes me out at night to show me the stars and the moon; She's the one who finds and fixes Betsy Wetsy's missing finger ... the one who sings lullabies--my own soprano singer.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '60s.
She's the one who teaches me to single crochet and french knot ... the one who shows me what to bake, what to broil, which pan, which pot; She's the one who untiringly retells her "Old Country" tales ... the one who marches with me to all the department sales.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '70s.
She's the one in Room 207 of the Plaza Nursing Home ... the one who is the reason why I wrote this loving poem; She's the one who sits and prays in the blue wheelchair ... the one who now has wispy silver-white hair; She's the one with the crippled arthritic hands ... the one whose sweet smile has made many friends from many lands.
THIS IS GRANDMA OF '88.
I will write just one more line ... This is Grandma and she's all mine!
Love Always and Forever,
Diane-Lynn Broda
(NJShellick)
She's the one with her dark wavy hair up in a bun ... the one who always knows how to make things fun; She's the one who serves me warm milk with a smidgeon of coffee and cream ... the one who sews stuffed animals--every child's dream.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '50s.
She's the one in the kitchen simmering the stew ... the one who picks homegrown tomatoes, tiptoeing through the dew; She's the one who at her naughty granddaughter shakes the biggest wooden s-p-o-o-n ... the one who takes me out at night to show me the stars and the moon; She's the one who finds and fixes Betsy Wetsy's missing finger ... the one who sings lullabies--my own soprano singer.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '60s.
She's the one who teaches me to single crochet and french knot ... the one who shows me what to bake, what to broil, which pan, which pot; She's the one who untiringly retells her "Old Country" tales ... the one who marches with me to all the department sales.
THIS WAS GRANDMA OF THE '70s.
She's the one in Room 207 of the Plaza Nursing Home ... the one who is the reason why I wrote this loving poem; She's the one who sits and prays in the blue wheelchair ... the one who now has wispy silver-white hair; She's the one with the crippled arthritic hands ... the one whose sweet smile has made many friends from many lands.
THIS IS GRANDMA OF '88.
I will write just one more line ... This is Grandma and she's all mine!
Love Always and Forever,
Diane-Lynn Broda
(NJShellick)