I was spending the night at Grandma's place.
It was in the spring of the year.
Tucked snuggly beneath homemade quilts.
Memories bring my eyes, to tears.
I could smell coffie and bacon and eggs.
My Grandma was humming a song.
Then I heard a sound that made me think,
something was dreadfully wrong.
Whatever it was it shook the house,
all though in a very slight way.
It crossed over the porch; entered the door.
It was Uncle Bob's wife; Ella May.
Aunt Ella was a very tall woman,
with a voice that carried a long way.
Had flashing black eyes and when she spoke,
her head bobbed, \ and her body would sway.
Made quite the empression on this child.
I determined to stay in her good grace.
But beneath her loud ways was a heart of gold.
Just some memories of Grandma's place.
c.d.m.11-12-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem