Beautiful land in the distance,
Heading there in consistence,
Mountains far but so close,
Leading us to a touch of prose.
Hear me for our worlds at peace,
Bend the map; make a crease.
Here we arrive,
After that 12 hour drive.
Colorado with family at heart,
At the table is where we’d start.
Cards out to play,
Unpacking our load to stay.
For its Grandmas house so snug,
Searching for berries pulling ones with no bugs.
For its Grandmas house we’re here at last,
Family times become a memory; a blast.
Downtown Denver is where we’d go,
For entertainment, shopping, and more.
Mountains near come to view,
High in the air the lifts flew,
To a land full of chip and dales,
A land full of fun filled tales.
For its Grandmas house we find it all,
From books, to puzzles, and deer on the wall.
Love is tight, so close, so right,
Each year we make it-just a different height.
For its Grandmas house; time for play,
Staying up late as memories mold into clay.
From rock climbing to white water rafting,
From a child so small,
To an adult I grew so tall.
I’ll always know this woman cares,
Stories and interesting facts she shares.
Never ending funny times,
Which are about to make some rhymes:
Laughing down the aisle fast,
Goes Grandma with the cart at last,
In her nice cars we found speed,
In her car so close; she takes lead,
Games all night long,
These nights could not go wrong,
Competitive withheld to each,
Although each game she would teach.
Shaun, Roo, and Wooky too,
Filled my heart with joy and the yard with poo.
Neighbor friends there to play with me,
And Grandmas rules were at plea.
For its Grandmas house I love to be,
Relaxing times and views to see.
Grandmas back to town,
In my papers she’s in so profound.
When I’m older I would write,
I see myself in her shoes; her light.
Her light of wisdom, care, and love,
As she fits so close like a glove.
With warmth of all above,
She’ll stay close no matter where; a bird; a dove.
Grandmas don’t have to be so amazing,
But time went on and she kept praising.
Praising me in all my sports,
From soccer, softball, and the games on courts.
You’d find my Grandma up so late,
Making work and sewing so straight.
Love for her will always be,
The way of life; the key.
As memories fade and here we are,
I’ll look up to the sky, your star.
No matter how far or near,
I will always have you in my head; so clear.
Copyright © Stacey Behal