Grandma taught me about the importance of words
she was a wonderful storyteller
she loved telling a tale or two and loved her birds
so now, I am a poet taleteller
also gran taught me how to write my words down
When still a child she told me to just write
and then with steaming tea we would have a sit-down
I wrote of life's dagger and my sad plight
when gran died I wrote a three page tribute blessing
I wrote of what she meant to us, to me
as I penned my words I felt grans hand caressing
at the church a soft breeze made my notes flee
I stood still unsure and then her voice said just talk
so I did, it seems that I did not need the paper notes
I spoke my words as white pages drifted like a bird flock
Gliding like gauzy sheer veils around the church
and in that moment I knew the power of words
words sad that they could bring people to tears
beautiful words that can describe nature and birds
as we buried gran I thanked her for it all in a silent prayer
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