Titter Tatter
While digging through my tedious closet, I felt a peaceful spirit surround me.
It was my grandmother.
She was a strong and vibrant soul.
My eyes froze upon her elite sewing machine.
Every rustic detail exposed a loving memory.
I reminisced of the titter tatter sound of the needle moving up and down when she sewed.
It was our special time of love and laughter with each other.
Titter tatter, titter tatter, titter tatter, to some that would be an annoying vibration.
For me, it was a charming noise of love.
As I turned to walked away, the aroma of her unforgettable rose perfume enhanced the closet.
I felt her sweet presence beside me.
When we are young, we believe titter tatters are everlasting.
Special moments disappearing is unforeseen to us.
Unfortunately, when the titter tatter stops, so does the sewing machine.
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.
