My eyes always behold her.
A woman of good faith is she,
Who owns innate disposition-
The epitome of clarity
...
Come Spring come
And spread yourself
Among us all
And cure my health.
...
My Grandmother
My eyes always behold her.
A woman of good faith is she,
Who owns innate disposition-
The epitome of clarity
Has she beady, liquid eyes
Orbs that flash around everywhere,
And skin so sleek! And hair so fine!
All tied up with inherent flair.
Nothing of her shall i say is flawed,
She owns marked quality
Of living an ordinary, yet fastidious life,
Of warmth and amiability
On that chair does she peruse
My silly old letters from her chest,
Scanning the messy, decrepit leaves
Sustaining the tender heft.
Every night below the roof,
I smell piquant, succulent fare
Of home-made heavy admixtures
Made of profound warmth and care.
She might not always be with me
Yet i know it deep inside,
That there is none and none shall be
Fit to keep and boast my pride.