I never thought you would leave me
I dreaded the day,
as I sat in summer's warmed window
thinking of the fate
that was surely to come.
Nighthawks screeched out
their sorrow
as my world made it's way
to a day without caresses
from your Grandmother's play.
My Granny's voice,
weathered hand and kind manner
were all it took to ease pain
and horror,
as the plaster pony of guarded play days
and memories harbored
lay in crumbled defeat...but,
'forgiven' was the song that she sang in my ear,
my Grandmother and siren
in my child's world without fear.
Simple lessons, I recall
in a beautiful clothesline,
in a browned, buttery crust
and the map of a newly pressed shirt...
smells of fruit pies and yeast rolls
on radiator rising,
'long side mittens and cold bottoms...
I can still smell today
in my minds eye and memory cache,
my Grandmother's kitchen
and her vision...
of home...
I am home to stay.
I once saw you walking a shimmering stair,
as I dreamed of your suffering
on the edge of your trail...
'I'm coming home Ma',
you would say in your sleep,
'I'm your Mother dear...
I will guard thee, your passage
and your story of 93 year.'
These gifts and these mem'ries
will be mine to be kept,
the lessons and boo boos
and gath'rings of all,
will be cherished and guarded
in this month of your birth...
Happy birthday Granny
your light still shines bright,
though in the shadow of the living
you guard my thoughts and my flight,
as I trip through my song and my claim,
to my period of usefulness
on this dimensional plain,
my spirit is with you
'till we shall visit again...
I love you
and miss you
my harbor
my Gram.
Shadow Shot Sunday in Australia,where friends gather to chat, we'd love for you to join us...take a trip down under and dream the dream.
I dreaded the day,
as I sat in summer's warmed window
thinking of the fate
that was surely to come.
Nighthawks screeched out
their sorrow
as my world made it's way
to a day without caresses
from your Grandmother's play.
My Granny's voice,
weathered hand and kind manner
were all it took to ease pain
and horror,
as the plaster pony of guarded play days
and memories harbored
lay in crumbled defeat...but,
'forgiven' was the song that she sang in my ear,
my Grandmother and siren
in my child's world without fear.
Simple lessons, I recall
in a beautiful clothesline,
in a browned, buttery crust
and the map of a newly pressed shirt...
smells of fruit pies and yeast rolls
on radiator rising,
'long side mittens and cold bottoms...
I can still smell today
in my minds eye and memory cache,
my Grandmother's kitchen
and her vision...
of home...
I am home to stay.
I once saw you walking a shimmering stair,
as I dreamed of your suffering
on the edge of your trail...
'I'm coming home Ma',
you would say in your sleep,
'I'm your Mother dear...
I will guard thee, your passage
and your story of 93 year.'
These gifts and these mem'ries
will be mine to be kept,
the lessons and boo boos
and gath'rings of all,
will be cherished and guarded
in this month of your birth...
Happy birthday Granny
your light still shines bright,
though in the shadow of the living
you guard my thoughts and my flight,
as I trip through my song and my claim,
to my period of usefulness
on this dimensional plain,
my spirit is with you
'till we shall visit again...
I love you
and miss you
my harbor
my Gram.
Shadow Shot Sunday in Australia,where friends gather to chat, we'd love for you to join us...take a trip down under and dream the dream.
