I have just a few words to say
About my grandma, Jessie Mae.
She’s eighty-nine and don’t take no stuff,
And when necessary she’s just plain tough.
With a mean look or a willow tree vine
Grandma kept us kids in line.
If you dare talked back, she made it clear
The day of your funeral was almost here.
People at home and far away
Love to visit Ms. Jessie Mae.
She tells you stories of long ago
About people and places that we all know.
Ms. Jessie Mae’s cooking is the best.
No other could ever pass the test.
That Butter-roll and that sweet potato pie
Could bring a tear to the driest eye.
At Handy Chapel she taught and sang,
Always ready when that churchbell rang.
Ever ready to serve and to do.
Always one of the faithful few.
This doesn’t begin to tell the story
Of Ms. Jessie Mae and all her glory.
There’s just not enough time or space
To describe a woman of such grace.
She loves little toys, gags and jokes,
And watching Atlanta’s “Braves” play for folks.
Ms. Jessie Mae is like no other
And I’m so proud cause she’s MY GRANDMOTHER.
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