She sits and rocks, so gently back and forth
Her chin leaning heavily on her chest.
In her hands she cradles, one flat waxed rose
And sighs as pain is swelling in her breast.
Her long grey hair, now tied up in a bun
Is what I see when entering the room.
I helplessly watch, her tear drops flowing,
They look like dew, upon the lonely bloom.
Slowly she looks at a picture nearby,
A glimpse of a smile creases her face.
Granddad with her, stand on their wedding day
With red roses, and a dress of white lace.
After the wedding, she said with a smile,
I took this one rose and waxed it back then.
Granddad had laughed at me wondering why.
I said, for the special memories when…….
And now this old rose, I hold in my hand,
Precious memories kept in my drawer
I pull it out remembering the day
When granddad loved me, and I loved him more.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: Encounters with Flowers
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
**Dedicated to those who preceded us and gave their blood, sweat and tears, so we can have the luxuries they could not**
The wind whispers, the wind whispers ----
the wind spreads her wings,
so all can sing her lonesome tune;
An old wind blows, older names gust
and whirl and chime,
remind those unfinished pacts of days gone by,
plea they deep in the night
when the arbor grates the house ----
The withered barn is grey to dark
and the yard chasing with ghosts;
whisper in wind of forgotten oaths,
to freedom in day when sun is high,
justice takes pleasure even in shadowed realms,
even the gales cease their roar and great wars die
and the end shall end anew;
What in the wind, with tethered and sleepy heads,
do they ask, do they plead
and have us do?
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017
You look at me so uninviting;
I may have some missing teeth, stumble when I walk, bout' to FALL!!!
Stutter when I talk, but yet I'll still call;
Might smell like ole mothballs or mint or maybe even Old Spice;
You see me and you stare, you're looking at the patches of my skin YES! it's different (maybe diseased ) different;
different colors and wrinkled on my face, the gray in my hair;
Yes you still stand there and stare. . .
I may talk bout RCA, Philco record players you say "what's that;
I might talk bout Annie Oakley, BoZo the Clown, Captain Midnight, you say Whose that;
Well child let me tell you all...
Don't throw me away;
Cause I'm just like you;
Don't put me out cause I'm too slow;
You think I'm in the way and I can no longer grow;
Don't throw me away, place me in a rest/nursing home;
Don't put me away because you think I'm in the way;
I', senior don't talk bout me in front of me I don't understand a word you say;
I'm alive, I have more brain cells and I got all my memory, well;
That's more than I can, say for you huh-hey!
Imagine if I'd treated you such;
But I wouldn't cause I've got God's love in me so much. . .
Love you see
So I just suck it up turn the other cheek;
I may tumble but I won't fall;
I may forget something's but not all;
And yes I still eat meat;
Cause I got all my teeth;
remember your just trying to get where I am at now;
I'm a senior don't throw me away;
I'm telling you I'm history and I'm a part of God's glory wanna hear, come here;
Come here and sit down, I sit in a chair can hardly rise or go anywhere;
You see me and you stare I drive slow you begin to cuss and swear;
I won't do you ill;
I won't act like you will;
I'll take you today......
But I won't, I will NOT THROW YOU AWAY
Dedicated to all Gods people's 60 years of age to 100 years
Thank you for your wisdom, thank you for your life. . .
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. July 6 2015(c)
For the book Poetry to Bridge Generations University Of Nebraska at Omaha 2015(c)
Copyright © James Edward Lee Sr. | Year Posted 2017
L-iving in a world of vast
souls formed from
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell
and wail when the chips
N-urtured from cradle to
entity with a new world
O-rganizes oneself for the
task ahead,passing thru
hurdles of life unabased
R-eaps the fruit of labor
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission
accomplished or not will
dawn on the entity.
I-n retrospect,he thinks
about his childhood and
how life was to him.
L-iving in confidence or
shame,he bows his head
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time
will tell the durability of
V-oid of preference the
aim result bears the
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies
with the works of the
man,for there is no food
for the slothful.
Y-oung ones,a stitch in
time saves nine,make
haste while the sun
O-iling your lamb always
like the ten virgins is the
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer
pressure and focus on
the course marked out
for you by fate,so a
fulfilled life you shall live.
An acrostic for you
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
New Future Of The
Cable cost are up
You turned to the
internet and so have
My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go
For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows
Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you
and crafty wood
has all the quirks
The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a
Animal friends, I
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too
Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
And a simple click
is all you have to
A lot of shows with
a mix for all
derby or a stunt so
So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
By: Doris Anne
Copyright © Doris Beaulieu | Year Posted 2014
What’s it take for women to hate
their first born so long and so cold?
Sly smiles as he choked on the bait.
You sat in that one church so bold,
Blind and deaf to Love’s story told.
Among serpents in pews hearts won,
you died unbroken, mute and sold,
in how you treated your own son.
A father’s heart chipped out of slate.
Your measure given is twofold,
to regret forever too late,
brimstones are all that’s left to hold.
Your neglect was poured and it rolled
eighty-three years under the sun.
The Great White Throne decree behold,
in how you treated your own son.
How his innocence you both ate,
An orphan made in constant scold.
No mercy in your ways or fate.
In Matthew you read he foretold,
hypocrite’s wages to be tolled .
The grave’s sleep keeps remorse undone,
your legacy as I grow old,
in how you treated your own son.
If I am to breathe Heaven’s air,
your first grandson, when life is done,
I don’t expect to see you there,
in how you treated your own son.
Contest: Not Your Average Ballade
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
My change is my rhyme scheme : 'ababbcbC ababbcbC ababbcbC dcdC'
Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015
oh nirvaan ! truly dearly you ,
how should i tell you,
how much i love you,
i am your uncle,
you’re my nephew,
thats not all i have to tell you,
i can see in you,
astonishing wisdom and noble cue,
so i like to earnestly convey you,
in this world of disguise beauty,
nirvaan be the crown of integrity,
cherish the values of buddha,
knowledge, character and generosity,
and accomplish the ambedkar glory,
your parents nita and vivek,
working hard for your sake,
for you the platform is set,
to lead the rest,
born in wealthy country of opportunity,
don’t ever forget humility,
towards suffering dalit society,
strive for their prosperity,
your grand parents abhayanand and jhanaprabha,
devoted most of life as an ambedkarite,
be the reason for their pride,
by never giving up the quest,
that born american by birth,
you are equally devoted,
to spread the dr. ambedkar's word,
to make india pro-buddha,
oh nirvaan! truly dearly you,
buddha’s of past, present and future, bless you.
sadhu, sadhu, sadhu !
Copyright © rahul gade | Year Posted 2009
I was one of many that had the priviledge
to live with my Grandparents. The lessons
I learned from them will remain with me for
the rest of my life. My Grandmother was a
very wise woman and her way of thinking
and explaining things made me listen.
I remember when one of my so called friends
set me up with with a blind date. A horrible
evening for me. When I got home and told
the story my Grandmother just laughed. Finally she ask me
"are you sure she is your friend", then she told me
the story of the rattlesnake.
Once there was a rattlesnake that got caught
in the freezing weather. A kindhearted man
found him and the snake said "please help me".
The man freed the snake and brought him into his
warm home and put him by the fire to warm.
The snake bit him and the kindhearted man
asked him "why did you bite me, I just saved your
life". The snake told the man, "you knew I was a
snake when you brought me in". I realized then
what she was talking about, choose your friends wisely.
One day I was helping this lady with some chores.
She was a very unfriendly woman and expected you
to work till you dropped. I told my Grandmother about it
and she said, "always remember, there are some people
that will work a willing horse to death". I remember
that lesson very well. My life was touched by this wonderful
woman in a way that I now tell these stories to my children.
Everyone must learn lessons, I pray you can learn them
from someone that lived during times that were hard, they
knew the meaning of hard times. The depression taught them well.
Copyright © chris hardy | Year Posted 2014
It was so long ago
It still holds the place in my heart
The one I reserved for special moments
The times before his health
got the best of our relationship
Back when my grandpa
was able to be my
It was my first parade
and one of his last
The Halloween of
but there was also the usual
witches, and monsters
but most importantly
there was my grandpa.
He volunteered to help
with the small monsters
of classroom 301 that year
which would also be his last
so he was able to walk with his
even if he kept stopping
to pick up candy
along the way.
walking with him
along the crowded streets
past the sirens of the firetrucks
and over the steep hills
will forever beat any memory
trick or treating
passing out candy
or the endless Halloween parties
for that was just a moment to enjoy
now that his old age has hit him
there's no more walking
no more dressing up for Halloween
just to see a smile on the face of
his little monsters
That moment will forever hold my heart
ten years ago was
the last time
of a grandfather
walk beside her
Copyright © Alexis Hogg | Year Posted 2015
She really does...
She writes a lot about love,
About someone dying.
She writes about flowers
Pretty crystal vases,
Layed out in lace.
Great Grandma wrote
Once, about my face.
She writes of the stars and
Once dancing on it, as it smiled.
Said she wished she could have
Stayed a while longer,
But sunrise called,
Scattering through the
Birds sang in mellow tones,
Ravens black, were seen
Soaring almost as high as eagles.
Robins are her favorite things,
Except for butterflies,
Which defy the idea that there is
Any creature more beautiful!
Greatgrandma wrote about the
Waves licking the shore.
I looked and looked for the
She said lingered.
She's writing now about
Some special thing.
I know this because always,
When she writes,
March 20, 2013 EST
Copyright © Cynthia Alvez | Year Posted 2013
Son Of A Gun
My Great Great Grandpa was a musket
only one son he would want.
My Great Great Grandma named him shotgun
he used to love to hunt.
He too would only want one son
and that's just what he got.
My Great Grandma named him rifle
he was a single shot.
Married with one son himself
Grandpa wouldn't take no static.
His son was highly favored
and they named him automatic.
Along then came my daddy
who I never gave no lip.
He lived inside a holster
that men wore on their hip.
He had a great big family
but I'm his favorite one.
My daddy was a pistol
I'm a son of a son of a son of a gun.
Edwin C Hofert
Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015
B R E A K my walls of passion as we turn doorknob number o n e,
young love started a romantic destiny meant for only you and I.
So many months turning into years of traveling and creating fun,
for the vows we swore released a lifelong commitment...
...we do sanctify.
“Sneak in quietly the babe's asleep…” as we turn doorknob number t w o,
our family has begun and life is hectic with the cooing and the crying.
Although it seems chaotic at times deep down we always knew,
this was the dream we always hoped for without hesitant denying.
“Welcome son! Please walk right in!” as we turn doorknob number t h r e e,
“oh get over here sweet Ella and tell me all about your school day!
I’m so delighted to catch up and laugh, and see your beautiful family,
there’s nothing like being grandparents, oh how I wish you could stay.”
So many keys are made to fit so many doors into our adoring futures,
from youth grown into a loving marriage, and now grandparents are we.
Our souls connected the first time we glanced; became sewn on sutures,
to think this life was born behind closed doors using three simple k e y s.
Date Written: July 15, 2016
Rhyme Scheme: ABAB-CDCD-EFEF-GHGH
Original Contest Entered: Three Keys Contest
Date Judged: July 20, 2016
For Contest: I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada- 2 - Poetry Contest
Sponsor, Broken Wings
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016
their was a time when we used to be beautiful
we were used to smile, ran atleast 2 mile
we were used to create images of many mysterious objects
we all were once child,
play and smile without any panic for a while
this is a tendency
that everything which is born is due to die
as even water is due to dry
the birds which fly
will one day fall and die
the plants which were once green
become shrink and fly
yet they also die
this life is only a test
your time will come after a little rest
you will be buried in a grave
and will become a dust
we all were once used to be child
so kissed us on our forhead
as we re bound to go to a world
a world full of fairies, full of joy
yet this is something which isn t confirmed
one day we all shall be resurrected
will stand infront of our God
their will be two different sights
the heaven which give joys
and the hell which frights
that day we shall remember all our frauds
as that day only one power will rule
that shall be of God
if you don t believe it than you re a fool
we re once used to be child
so don t be afraid of tomorrow sight
just believe in God
do good deeds
as the time has started us to feed
so don t be afraid of death
as it is bound to come
either early or later
and their shall be a day
when your name will totally fade away
Copyright © Faraz Ajmal | Year Posted 2017
I have a Bentwood Rocker
It's the most cherished thing I own
It is made from the willow branches
of an ancient tree at my grandparent's home.
It embraces me on my back porch
both in the morning and at night
when a pair of cardinals come to visit me
at both the first and last day's light.
I rock in a gentle rhythm
sip my coffee and watch the clouds
and think to myself life's worth living
As I just sit and rock without a sound.
Sometimes I hum a favorite tune
and sometimes I just rock silently alone
somehow this chair seems to center me
It motion washes away life's rough edged stones.
As I sway and think of days gone gone by
of my brothers and sisters and me
climbing up among the branches
of my grandparents big old willow tree.
We used to swing on all the branches
Like the Jungle Book's Tarzans and Janes
Laughing and swingly wildly, never quiet nor mundane
Yelling out profusely, howling out all the Jungle Book slang.
We used to weave together the branches
into leafy wreaths without any thorns
improvised crowns of the greenest splendor
Just as Julius Caesar would have worn.
Sometimes we added in flowers
Daisies and dandelions were always in season
Sometimes we just sat in that old tree
Just happy to be there, for no given reason.
And so decades and decades of years have gone by
My Grandparents have long since passed on
But I think of them often as I rock in my chair
Cherished memories to always remember.
And now the winter has settled in
My cherished rocker sits covered in snow
Waiting for the days of the songbirds return
Waiting for warm days instead of the cold.
It sits silently waiting for Springs blossoms to arrive
for a day when I can rock without being froze
for an evening when relaxing in my comfortable rocker
will signal the end of one of my beloved warmer days.
Copyright Christine A Kysely December 14, 2010
(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved,
Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2010
Let us come to measure sky,
It's length, breadth
height, weight, width, area
everything, everything to be measured.
Sitting on the back of cloud,
flying to end point of sky,
to uplift our stature and head.
If, measuring tape will not support
We will measure with our hand
And go up to moon
Moon, that comes to our lap
With every call of our mom.
We will play there,
revolving round and round,
on the dusty & wavy ground.
Then again, we have to measure
the hidden sound of lullaby
that mother used to sing,
The eternal love that grow within us
with soft tender wing, hidden under hill.
At the evening, we’ll return back
jumping from that high,
Let us come to measure sky,
Let us come to measure sky.
We will suppose to measure
The distance of land of stars
With the support of a rope
Stretching from heart of moon
And fixing with the soul of sun.
We have to measure
The intensity of glow of each star
Where our grand parents
breathing their pleasant life,
and blessing us to stay peace.
And at last,
We have to step ahead
to visualize the Sun
measuring intensity of its ray,
Temperature in June
And temperature in May.
Everything we have to weigh.
Our mind is enlightened with whose light,
Our heart is so strong with whose heat,
Our soul is like ocean, grown from which point,
He is our father, light of our day,
Let us come to measure sky,
Let us come to measure sky.
Copyright © Manmath Dalei | Year Posted 2016
B eautiful boy
R ough at play
Y oung and curious
C uddly and loving
E normous energy
A ngel from heaven
L oving and loyal
I rresistibly huggable
A dorably cute
N eat and outgoing
A pple of our eye
Copyright © Susan Gwynne-Galfe | Year Posted 2014
Teenage Girls clad in the latest fashions,
Do it whenever they meet,
Grown men aren't afraid to show some passion,
When their team's comeback is complete,
They can say hello, they can say goodbye,
And anything inbetween,
If you open your arms and crack a smile,
There is nothing that a hug cannot mean.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
It started with his dad, you see;
Those many years ago.
At first there was just gramps and she,
But then he joined the show.
Raising him into a man
Was something to behold.
Many days it seemed the
Only thing they did was scold.
But yet there were those other times,
When what they felt was pride.
To glimpse the man he would become:
What made him up inside.
And now there is his little son;
Their grandchild much adored.
God's guarantee that as they age,
They never will be bored.
He is the apple of their eye,
Who fell close to the tree.
They see the promise in him now,
The world will someday see.
A little boy who's growing up
To run and laugh and play.
Mischievous, loving, happy child,
Who changes with each day.
His dad was their first blessing,
And now for goodness sake;
Their proud to have a grandson
Who's just frosting on the cake.
© 2015 Diane Lefebvre
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Just like you!
Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013
We have been together
treasured joy now for many years
we trust each other with our
emotions, with affection, tears,
Any day when you are sick or hurting
I feel your pain - significant other,
when eighter-one needs attention
we help one another...
These mutual friendly feelings
for assistance, approval, support
form our tight bonds,
usually never broken
Sharing visions, time together
we respect each other,
regardless of shortcomings
I know you, "I love you anyway"
Copyright © Perry Campanella | Year Posted 2013
I've seen more faces of parental love
As a child I heard folk lore from grandma
Often I lay calm in her elbow's cove
Night pressed her feet swollen with oedema
And in the noon we would hide in a room
With a binoculars to watch the birds
Collecting twigs for nesting babes in womb
Grandma was fun and all requests were heard
Grandpa moved around with his wailking stick
We took care of him on his pious bed
Didn't know he was dying thought him sick
In the middle of night goodbye he said
We hugged and cried at our world that collapsed.
New homes we were flown to, our ties just snapped
October 29, 2015
Contest: In The Name Of Love
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
Have you ever written anything without sub combing to tears ?
My Family portrait in my mind , 2 older sisters , 2 brothers
My Mother caring about all five in different ways
Just with Mom & Dad there having the best of Holidays
My sisters laying out on the deck of river bank for 4th of July ~
Listening to " Honkey Chateau " and all by Elton John.
music a great memory ~Disco , Donna summer , Grease ~ Jaws !
Dad's records to Tony Bennett , Hank W Sr. , Count Basie & Louis Armstrong.
The music takes me home in a wagon filled with children and a dog "Lucky "
My Older brother , athletic , always fishing & hunting.
My younger , my Rock , Swimming and netting for fish,
feeding our Fat cat Perch off the rocks patiently awaits her food
the yelling , slamming of doors , tempers Flare , passion
Our Parents , passionate love yet passionate Hate .
After being a Family of Seven , Divorcing their fate ..
Why did that show " Dallas " bring out the Divorce in all ?
Scottish ~ Irish ~ French Iroquois ~ Cherokee
No matter what the mix ..Our curse Alcohol ~
the Screaming , Drinking , this memory I wish to shut the door on .
Going to A & W or making Cheerleading ,The Bears of course~
Excited in Chicago ! seeing Elton John in the Summer of 1976 ~
Cubs , museum of Wax , Museum of science & History , Pizza !
Expeditions of discovery ,little brother & I finding arrowheads on the Shore.
Our Grandparents Faithful Celebrations ! Chiffon cake , Apple strudel `
Our Cousins on Holidays , going for ice cream cones ,
scent of wet rain on oak leaves ~Before Halloween was bought in stores.
~ That is the Family I Love ,
that is the Family I choose to miss ~
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
IT'S YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER,
YOU NEVER MET ME.
OVER THE YEARS I PICTURE YOUR FACE IN MY MIND.
I IMAGINE YOU HOLDING ME IN YOUR ROCKING CHAIR, SINGING
A LULIBY SONG TO ME.
WITH YOUR SILVER HAIR AND WRINKLE SOFT TISSUE SKIN.
GRANDMA , REMEMBER YOUR SON, MY FATHER.
HE USED TO HOLD ME IN HIS ARMS.
TELL ME HOW MUCH HE LOVES ME.
HE ROCKED ME TO SLEEP EVERY NIGHT
AND READ READ A BEDTIME STORY THAT
MADE MY EYES SLEEPY IN WONDERLAND.
I WISH YOU COULD OF SAW HOW MUCH HE LOVED ME,
A WONDERFUL FATHER I HAD.
WHENEVER I GOT SICK.
HE PLACED A COLD BROWN BRITTLE HAND TOWEL ON MY FOREHEAD,
KISSED MY RED SWOLLEN CHEEKS AND
MAGICALLY, THE FEVER DISAPPEARS AWAY.
HE USED TO TALKED ABOUT YOU GRANDA.
HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU WERE.
A LOVING AND CARING MOTHER YOU WAS TO HIM.
HE REALLY LOVED YOU AND GRANDPA LIKE TWO DANCING DOVES.
I LOVED YOU AND GRANDPA MY WHOLE LIFE,
LIKE YOU WERE WITH ME THROUGH MY CHILDHOOD.
I MISS MY FATHER SO MUCH.
NEVER HAD LONG ENOUGH TIME TO SHARE MY LIFE WITH HIM.
I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO TELL HIM,
WHAT A WONDERFUL FATHER, DADDY HE WAS TO ME.
BUT I'M SURE.
SOMEHOW HE KNOWS I LOVED HIM DEEPLY.
HE DON'T WANT ME TO CRY ARE FEEL SAD.
I HOLD HIM IN MY HEART EVERYDAY.
AND I KNOW HE WATCHING OVER ME.
I GOT ALL THESE MEMORIES GRANDMA.
AND MY HEART FULL OF LOVE AND JOY.
I CAN CRY ONLY HAPPY TEARS.
KNOWING THAT YOU ALL IN HEAVEN TOGETHER,
SMILING DOWN ON ME.
THANK YOU, GRANDMA FOR BEING MY GRANDMA
AND HAVING A WONDERFUL SON, MY FATHER.
I LOVE YOU ALL.
SINCERLY, YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER AND DAUGHTER, ROBIN
Copyright © Robin Brown | Year Posted 2013
There's a little history to this particular poem. I know I wrote it when I was 11 or 12 years old. I wrote it for my Grandma Dorabel, who is today 90 years old. I also wrote it for my uncle John who had been taking care of her at the time; I didn't want to leave him out so I put on the letter: For Grandma Dee and Uncle John! I wrote this short little poem along with a drawing of a cat and some flowers. However, I actually never sent the picture to her! My parents and I must have forgotten to send! To me that was unacceptable! I thought to myself today when I found the picture, I must send it now! The picture is now on its way to her, so I am happy she will at last receive it.
You can send me a bouquet of flowers,
You can order me a box of chocolates,
You can buy me a fancy outfit,
But flowers don't last,
Chocolates eventually disappear,
Outfits get out of style,
Yet Love never fades,
And it's the most precious gift of all
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
Grandpa grew hay and corn and vegetables on his farm,
And in the Autumn on bright sunny days we all helped him;
With the gathering, reaping and gleaning to get in the Fall crop,
Then the family gathered to celebrate another abundant harvest.
And when the rainy season started, torrents of rain fell,
Soaking rain that flooded the fields and made them soggy;
We all stayed inside on those wet days reading and waiting,
I did not mind, for I find the pitter-patter of rain to be pleasant.
Soon Jack Frost was knocking on our farmhouse door,
The hoar frost covered everything in the early hours of day;
And it was piercing and penetrating, it chilled us to the bone,
But by mid-day the sun came out and melted all the frost away.
One bright morning everything was frozen and ice covered,
All the walkways were iced over, it was bitter cold, cold as ice;
Old Man Winter was just reaching out his icy fingers to warn us,
And I was thinking, perhaps it is time for me to check my skates.
It was late November when the first flakes came in the night,
The snowstorm was light snow with big beautiful, gentle drops;
By morning, there was a mantle of white on all fences and barns,
And by afternoon everything had melted into a wet, slushy mess
After school, I was helping Grandpa shovel the many paths,
My teeth were chattering, trembling, I felt like a girl made of ice;
I told Grandpa, that I was quite sure I was going to freeze to death,
He nodded and said, go in the house; I noticed he was also shivering.
It was a long Winter with many snowstorms and huge drifts,
But somehow we survived it; I loved the smell of the fireplace;
And curling up on the sofa with Grandpa and Grandma like a kitten,
Then those ever shortening days of Winter became long days of Spring.
September 17, 2015
Verse - Narrative
For the contest, Seasonal, sponsor, Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015