Gran by Misti

I stumbled upon this poem written many years ago and bringing back such sweet memories.  Written for the person who made my childhood so special, encouraging fun-filled days spent getting up to all kinds of mischief and with my favourite cousin, whom I so admired!!!

Early morning cuckoo’s call

Arouses her from sleep

The chill of the morn crawls through old bones

As across the landing she’ll creep.

Aged fingers set to work

Laying the joy of her day

A fire to thaw the cold of one’s home

And to boil a pot of tea when she may.

Through muddy fields she trudges

Searching endlessly for a solitaire hen

She should have worked on yesterday

And fixed that wretched pen.

At last, tired but happy she rests

Grandchildren sat at her feet

Trying to grab Grandma’s attention

Whilst their faces turn rosy from the fire’s heat.

Days of yesterday, Gran

I sit and remember, just like you…

Days of warmth and childish delight

That this modern world could never get right.

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