Grandma And Her Monkey Poem by MARINA GIPPS
Grandma And Her Monkey
In the whimsical drawers of a sad music box,
there was a picture with burnt brown edges, now missing.
Abuela held a sceptre where her monkey perched.
She was four years old-poor, adamant queen
On the coast of Spain where monkeys were no rarity.
At tea-time I asked her about the sceptre.
She told me the monkey had teeth,
Her fat fingers were bananas.
I remember her thick skin peeling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:20:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
