A Granny Without An Apron - Poem by Daleen Enslinstrydom
Her door is always open
and everybody is welcome
for a chat or a cup of tea,
there is splendour in her appearance
and her hair is always pinned up in a tidy bun.
She is one of those
from a gone-by era
and on her Victorian lounge suite
she will serve you tea
in her Royal-Albert tea set.
In her company
you are always in good conversation
and she is keen to listen
to everybody’s story.
She is proud to show you
the pictures on the wall,
to introduce you to every one of them
and it’s almost unbelievable
to realize that she is ninety-six years old.
In her day she was quite an actress
and had a few parts to play
on the local stage
and her heritage will live on
long after she is gone.
The fragrance that surrounds her
is profound and she smells
like spring and lavender
and around her neck
there is always a colourful scarf.
She always acts somewhat mischievous
and her eyes sparkle
and her laughter is contagious.
She is a friend to many people
and like a tin of sardines
there is always space for one more.
Her house does not have a garden
and around her waist
there is no apron
as she a grandma
that takes care of the hearts.
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