Emma
Emma was my granny, German born gal,
from Alsace-Lorraine, her will was homespun.
Her mom had six young children to corral -
emigrating in eighteen eighty-one.
Enduring the trip 'cross the waves alone
Pop had come early to find them a place.
With folks like hers, Emma kept up the pace -
hard-working, trust-worthy, independent.
Dark-haired beauty with a smile on her face,
my Emma could handle any event.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
