'Grandma's Apron' - Poem by Linda Winchell
My Grandma always wore an apron
something we don't see much anymore.
She would put it on over her dress
the first thing when she got up in morn.
She would carry eggs from the hen house
cupped in her apron pulled up tight.
She would also carry apples in it too
then washed her hands and on her apron did wipe.
Her apron hangs in my closet now
as a reminder of those days.
And sometimes slip it on over my clothes
and pretend I'm my Grandma for that day.
I go to the same old hen house
gather eggs for my apple pies.
I wash my hands and wipe them too
and with Grandmas' apron, swat a pesky horse fly.
Nothing I have seen of yet, will replace those aprons worn
they were from those days of long ago
in the day when my Grandma was born.
Comments about 'Grandma's Apron' by Linda Winchell
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You