Poetry: Grandma

I will remember, many years, you know,

When I sit on my porch in the summer glow,

The way I sat on the porch with you,

When summer evenings were fresh and new.

I will remember each Christmas season

That you never once forgot the reason—

Though in decorations you took delight,

As you sang your favorite, O Holy Night.

I will remember the smell of good bread,

Possibly long past the time I’m dead.

And of your pie, you always noted,

That Blueberry was the one I voted.

I will remember your crochet sack—

Your stealth-away-hiding, pound purry knack.

Afghans you made in rainbow colors—

Those caring things you crafted for others.

I will remember the Sunday meetings

In the Baptist church with so many greetings—

Listening to the songs, and your singing voice,

As you sang hymns about love and rejoice.

I will remember soft, warm cuddles;

Sharing secrets, jokes and chuckles.

I will remember all of my days,

Your loving, extravagant, Grandma ways.

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