cheryl davis miller Poems

At the head of the hollow
in fair West Virginia
sat Grandma’s house
neath a hugh hickory tree
...

She swept the hair back from her face,
as sweat ran down her cheek,
Then bent down over her washboard,
and her laundry for the week,
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The wonder of my little one
I use to look and see.
The amazing creature in my arms
who once lived inside me.
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He had twin die dang'lin from the mirror
and devilish coal black eyes.
That he'd ever give me a second look
gave my young heart a surprise.
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Life tells of many sad stories,
lived out; and then told and retold.
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I recall a simpler and gentler time
with hardly any effort at all.
As children we'd walk to and from school
winter, spring, summer and fall.
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One night while asleep
I received a dream.
I awoke with a cold
terrified scream.
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Last night was another poetry night
happens often while at work.
I've learned to grab a pen and some paper
while my duties I try not to shirk.
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This is a poem,
concerning Connie and me.
Two grannies,
who like to share poetry.
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Seated just across the dinner table
from the Meriwether sisters one night.
Listening as they planned a gala party
they wanted everything to be just right.
...