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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1977547
Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1977547
As a small child, I recall my grandmother's house. What wonderful memories.
My grandma's house sits on
Top of the Cumberland Mountain
Surrounded by acres of rolling hills,
Back near the woods, where the
Earth meets the sky;
If you listen carefully you
Can hear the whippoorwills
And all the critters that live nearby.

Grandma's house is a grand abode,
Surrounded by a wooden fence,
A barn and a dusty road.
Inside Grandma sits churning
Fresh cream for butter;
Looking out her window she
Sees her hens all in a flutter.
Tom turkeys chasing them;
What a zoo.
I see a smile creep across
Her face that's tanned from the sun;
She rises while it's still dark,
Her family to feed;
Grandma's chores are never done;
There's always a need.

Today the barn is gone, and the
House that once stood, where
The earth meets the sky, stands no more;
But her spirit still moves within my mind.
There is none to compare;
She was one of a kind.

Grandma's house was a grand abode;
Surrounded by a wooden fence, a barn,
And a dusty road.



© Revised 2019

© Janice Bumbalough Marler
poetrybyjan@gmail.com
© Copyright 2014 janice39 (janicemarler at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1977547