Grandma's Special Hideout Poem by Clare Walsh

Flowers, flowers are all I ever smell at my grandma's special hide-out
Insects, insects, are all I ever hear at my grandma's special hide- out
Ponds, ponds are all I ever see at my grandma's special hide-out
Whispering wind softly speaking to me like a mutual friend
Leeches, creepy crawlies are always trying to be friend me
I can feel the trickle of the sun's warmth upon me
High and low I search for my grandma's special hide out
Teardrops falling down like a waterfall
Listen, listen carefully as I tell you this
Grandma's hide out is not meant to be
I see Grandma trembling as she signs the form
Agents, Agents near and far
Nosing their way into my Grandma's Special Hideout
Birds and Bees I'll never again see at my grandma's special hide out
Goldfish and Green Ferns I'll never again see at my grandma's special hideout
Harold and Maude who I now see at in Grandma's cottage up the road
Grandma, Grandma you are there for me in your cottage up the road
You are more than a place to me in your cottage up the road
You always have a space for me in your cottage up the road