Pearl

Sitting on a park bench
and taking in the sights,
she's always got an eye out
for the children, running
back and forth till they are wired,
then pestering their parents -
"Come on, Mom, we're not tired!"

They cluster all around her,
they call her 'Auntie Pearl,'
to listen to her stories of
when she was just a girl;
tales of pinafores and mittens,
lovely hats for Sunday best,
patent leather shoes and stockings,
turning out so smartly dressed!     

There were picnics and fun times
out by the river when they'd walk
two miles or more learning their rhymes.
Riding in a carriage pulled by
horses up and down the street,
calling at a neighbour's house -
there'd always be a treat!

Taking presents to the homeless
the day after Christmas Day,
helping those who didn't have much
food to eat, or games to play.
She told them, "Listen to your folks,
try to grow up big and strong,
help others when you have the chance,
your lives will be full and long!"

One Saturday she didn't come to take 
her usual seat. The kids all clamoured:
"Where's Aunt Pearl?" she made their day 
complete. Moms said: "She's telling stories 
to the angels now, it's true. She loves you all, 
remember, she is watching over you."
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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Gass Avatar
January 23, 2009 at 6:52 AM
Keith, this is such a touching write. Where I grew up there were a few elderly women that I would have tea with and they would tell me stories. This "pearl" of a write brought back some lovely memories for me. Thank you for that and for your wonderful comments! Love and hugs, Robin
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