Grandmother
By John Kaniecki
There was a time
Her soft eyes are hard
history
The wrinkles of the women’s
face
Like endless concentric
circles on an ancient tree stump
A gentle smile defining
wisdom
Love in her heart blazing as
an open fire
Warming all who gather in her
vicinity
There was a time
We huddle near mesmerized
She is part of us
An entity, a being greater
than mom and dad
Like unto God, but more
approachable
More real
But still a mystery
An endless ocean of kindness
Full of treasures and treats
Steaming hot chocolate on
frigid winter days
Floods of kisses and hugs in
utmost sincerity
An intercessor to calm the
rage of parents
A keeper of the treasure box
of prudence
One who is given respect
freely
Not through arrogant,
domineering authority
But by a magic as
inexpressible as unexplainable
There was a time
Words simple but profound
Eagerly we hear her lore
Captivated
Bound by our own willing
spirits
Wishing for time to forever
cease
There was a time
It is now in the presence of
grandmother
Warm wholesome poetry like this is what makes up "A Day's Weather".
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