Grandma's House
In Grandma's house I remember
The smell of roses and fresh baked pie.
I recall the sounds of dishes clatter,
And birds at the feeders cry.
Each time we made a visit there,
Some new trinket caught my eye
A porcelain doll, a figurine,
The Bible by Her side.
Her house was filled with treasures,
Made of memories of the past.
The pictures of old relatives and
Flowers from Her garden in a jelly glass.
In Grandma's house there was constant chatter
My senses come alive with memories of laughter
The dressers Held lotions, and bottles of perfume
On doilies of lace She made in Her room.
I never saw the dust and dirt,
She claimed She could not clean
I only felt the warmth and love
Of a handmade quilt She used to cover me.
Written by Randi RauhTyler ©
