My mom grew up in the depression.
Her parents worked very hard
saving every penny,
so they could leave their yard.
Their home was nothing special.
It was finished by her dad,
and furnished with odds and ends
of whatever could be had.
My mother always chuckles,
retelling stories with slapstick.
Grandma says come sit a spell,
if you don't mind early attic.
14 April 2007
I truly love this poem. It's sentimental, sweet and it carries just the right amount of humor. My Granny's house looked alot like it was furnished from the attic, too. It brought back memories for me. Very good write. A definite '10'
Love your poems and stories Jojo for they come from your heart and that is the mark of a true poet. Taking advantage of not so good weather on the island day as internet goes in and out.Good old St.John.: You and many are making PH still worth coming in to read when one can. Godbless, mm, ...jugs of hugs as email not working for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very charming. Your Grandma sounds like someone I would liked to have known. Warm regards, Sandra