Remembering the hours at Grandma's house
Is such a pleasure for me,
To hear Mom say "yes, you can go"
Was all that I would need.
Grandma quarreled at my bare feet
Walking on her cold floor,
She'd say 'you'll catch your death'
I'd just politely ignore.
We'd walk out to the garden and pick tomatoes,
beans, cucumbers and such,
It was fun to eat at Grandma's house
She seemed to have so much.
The chicken pen was one of my favorites
To count and gather eggs,
Stepping around each little chick
Scared they'd peck my leg.
The pigs were my very favorite
As you can probably see,
I have them scattered through out my house
They hold sweet memories for me.
I did get to drive the tractor once
When I was really small,
Uncle Bob sat me in front of him
And Boy! Did I feel tall!
The swing, the trees, the coal shed of kittens
Bring back memories to me,
Grandpa letting me get the mail
Those days were special you see.
I still go back in my mind's eye
'Memories' how they rush,
One that isn't as sweet as the others
Is the toilet that didn't flush.
Love, Sharon '1987' (Edited in 1996)




































