Thistle Down

By Ethel

My Grandma

My Grandma...never ever,
Gave to me a kiss.
She never said how nice I was,
Or called me..."little Miss".

She never tried,
To see a single charm.
She never got so close to me,
To take me in her arms.

She never had no praise,
To ever offer me.
Children shouldn't be in the way,
So it was that that she could see.

She was concerned with mortal deeds,
There was not such as plenty.
I often wondered how it was,
Her family had so many.

Stalwart in her time...was she,
So like a real pioneer.
And she was the link within the chain,
That put me here.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

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