Grandma's House
The night was quiet
the sounds of the crisp
footprints pressing in the snow.
We gathered together
Into the old Nash we all jumped
Dad was driving mama sat shotgun.
We sang jingle bells
My favorite was Silent Night
Mama sang high while papa sang bass.
Just around the bend
The snow piled high in the yard
The coal stoves burned hot, smells of burnt wood too.
The turkey a cook'n
In that big old cook stove of Grandma's
Christmas Day was full of laughter and so much fun.
Now as I look back
I think of all those delightful memories
The ones that were the best were at Grandma's house.
Linda Terrell
December 20, 2009
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