My Grandma

I remember my grandma’s house Spending so many hours with her She always had that one special chair No one but her was allowed to use She always told stories of life in the old world And I would listen to every word Trying to imagine what she went through I would always bring her her favourite foods None of which was allowed Her favourite though was her veal breast Cooked in her kitchen from the 1940s But that was my grandma’s life She kept the best from her past And I was happy to have seen it all At least for a while © Poem – XXV/V/MMXXIV LRET