Grandma's Place

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

While going through my drop box files, I found this poem that I wrote two years ago. Looking back, I remember writing it and thinking that maybe it was no good, but after reading it, I can clearly
remember all of this as a little girl. I think it is a good memory and have decided to share it.

Submitted: April 16, 2017

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Submitted: April 16, 2017



Grandma's Place


A little child on a hard played day

gets so tired and starts to sway.


The home is old, but has much class.

There are trees outside and flower's and grass.


Onto the porch and into the house,

she sneaks inside, as quiet as a mouse.


Holding the banister, tiptoeing upstairs,

she looks below, without any cares.


At the very top is grandma's place.

White bedspreads, rugs and curtains of lace.


Climbing upon the bed so high,

she looks outside the window nearby.


The leaves are wrestling within her reach.

Fine lines from nature are scrawled on each.


Her eyes get heavy as she watches the lace

blowing the curtains up out of place.


She feels God's breath upon her skin

and falls asleep here, once again.

© Copyright 2018 V. R. Blackwell. All rights reserved.

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