Grandma Happy
Footsteps on stairs,
little feet pounding, running,
child faces peeking round the kitchen door,
expectancy alive, dancing in their eyes.
They know that love is always here
waiting just for them.
Each one thinks he is favorite;
in his or her own way, it is true.
Each is the most special
not for anything they say or do,
just for being.
We have our rituals -
breakfast French toast and bacon,
back rubs and funny faces,
movie nights,
ice cream after church,
backyard camp outs,
lots of love, laughter.
Happy takes me by surprise
each time I look
in my grandchild’s eyes.
© September 11, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
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.
