My Grandma always wore an apron
something we don't see much anymore.
She would put it on over her dress
the first thing when she got up in morn.
She would carry eggs from the hen house
cupped in her apron pulled up tight.
She would also carry apples in it too
then washed her hands and on her apron did wipe.
Her apron hangs in my closet now
as a reminder of those days.
And sometimes slip it on over my clothes
and pretend I'm my Grandma for that day.
I go to the same old hen house
gather eggs for my apple pies.
I wash my hands and wipe them too
and with Grandmas' apron, swat a pesky horse fly.
Nothing I have seen of yet, will replace those aprons worn
they were from those days of long ago
in the day when my Grandma was born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good one Linda. I've used reference to the old paisley pinny once or twice myself, but dont ask me where. It brings back memories of a begone age never to be forgotten. a good read thanks Regards Dave T.