Poetry

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As a child I was hustled to the car one eve,
Bundled with a blanket as we hurried to leave.
My brothers came too, a few little clothes,
Then speeding away, 'fore the monster arose.

We all slept through the long night's drive,
Still many, many hours until we'd arrive.
I'm sure momma knew this time would come,
But no time to plan, just take off and run.

Then that bright morning we woke to find,
A forest of Mulberry, Birch, and Pine.
On some little street, in some little place,
Our grandparents waited, us to embrace.

The four of us, the grandparents too,
Would we fit in a little house for two?
In Granny's house, we learned everyday,
'Leave it to the Lord, He'll find a way'.

Grampa talked of God's Heaven above
And I saw more than heard, a life of love.
He camped, and fished, and played Banjo too,
Every now and then, he'd sing a bar or two.

Granny played piano, Momma, Accordion,
Folks stayed for hours to sing and have fun.
We filled that house with love and praise,
And mem'ries that last through all our days.

Now there's just Granny in that little place,
Vibrant and sharp, and aging with grace.
Still plays piano when folks gather there,
A little house, near Heaven, somewhere.

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