Granmaw Poem by Carolyn Ford Witt

GRANMAW

Slippers 'neath the bedstead
A braid beneath her cap,
Nightgown to her ankles
As she lay down for her nap.

The quilt upon her bed
Made gently by her hand,
Oh so dry and calloused
From her work upon the land.

The wrinkles on her face
Like the furrows of the field.
The goodness of this lady,
The measure of her yield.

To me she was a blessing
Sent from God above,
And though I was the youngest
I got the measure of her love.

Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
11-15-05

By Ms. Caroline


© 2007 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)