some children fall in the cracks
swept up in loving arms
(for you) mothering comes easy
loving is never a “task”
Grandmothers take small hands
steer us clear of life’s storm
water their little one’s garden
never says “can’t” always “Can”
her memory flows over sweetly
wishing she still was near
heaven is ever the richer
Grandmother your love was so dear
In my discussions with people, I rarely find someone whose grandmother wasn’t an influence in their lives. Some of us were raised by our grandmothers and our mothers were either out of the picture or were more concerned about their own lives. To the women who in their elderly years dusted off their tennie runners and game playing skills and most of all loved us for who we were.
Sharing this with Poet’s United today!