Grandmother Poem by Sheena Blackhall

She'd a laugh that bubbled like berries in the pan
She'd whalebone stays with salmon-gusset bloomers
She'd a smile as bright's the sun on a copper kettle
She prodded a mouth in the fire till it told stories
She wore her long grey hair in a pleated circle
She fashioned a spider web of a lacy shawl
She wore grey silken stockings, swish and stately
She wore horn combs and a brooch of mother of pearl
She only ever spoke with a strong Scots burr
She folded her two soft hands to say 'Amen'
She drank black tea, with a pour of Scotch, at night
She sewed a garden of flowers on a cloth of linen
She was a wall no nightmare could climb over
There wasn't a finer woman walked the land
And when she died, the hearth chilled in the family
And every man put on the mourning band