Early in the mornin'
The sun in her hair
Tiny fingers
Plump blueberries
Shoved in her mouth
as quick as they were picked
Gran looked out
to find blueberries
smeared on her mouth
like paint
Now she sits with a nervous spin
her blonde hair gleaming
from the evening sun
From the window
A hug so tight
A tear fighting to fall
Gran can't speak.....
What happened to my tiny girl
with the top of her head
barely showing over
the blueberry bush
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So kind and caring that you wrote this for them. I enjoyed it much. And I love blueberries. Wish I had a blueberry bush. Thanks.