Memories Of Grandmother |
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This is my written permission, Recorded in black and white, Without one single condition To make it less than air-tight. I give you the freedom to choose Your own private formula �. Any method you want to use To be a much loved Grandma. Offer my youngsters untold sweets And keep the cookie jar full, Kiss away their hurts and defeats �. Don�t always be sensible. Laugh at their jokes.. Tell them they�re smart And handsome beyond compare. From the bottom of your heart, Let them know you really care. Shower them with the attention I am too busy to give. Convince them of your intention To love them long as they live. While I teach them about money, School-work or making a bed, You treat them to toast and honey, Mother Goose and ginger-bread. Close them with-in your welcome hug And hear their far-fetched schemes. Just for a while, they will be snug Sharing a world of day dreams. Look deep into their eyes and see The perplexing questions rise, To mingle with the deviltry, Which can almost hypnotize. Indeed you have my permission To do all these things and more. �. Whatever your intuition Hints might be fun to explore. Help them over their ups and downs, Each blunder and secret whim. Caress away those doubtful frowns, When they climb out on a limb. Do all the things I�d like to do, If only I had the time. �. Relaxed strolls down the avenue �. One more story at bed-time. Where did it go? The time I meant To spend with my treasured young? Those postponed hours of wonderment �. And the songs I left unsung. Were many promises broken, As day rushed by after day? Pushed aside with words unspoken And the games I didn�t play� Ahead of us is tomorrow With a new comparison. Will I once again know sorrow For the things I left undone? Any backward glance, I suppose Has a blending of regret, But most of all it will disclose The things we didn�t forget. For I have seen my children reach With kindness towards a play-mate, A tender note will touch their speech, A quick mind will meditate. They show stirrings of loyalty Along with moments of pride. They understand that honesty Must constantly be their guide. Many of the seeds we planted, Even those we dropped in haste, Took root in a place enchanted To grow tall and freckle-faced. Your love is also part of them, A wonderful, happy part, Which lives with-in the heart of them, Lighting the courses they chart. We cannot give our children gold, Nor bank-books totaling much, Whatever wealth they shall behold, Must come from their own deft touch. To the world they may appear plain, No riches to meet the eye �. While truly their spirits contain Assets gold never could buy. My children will find no other Bonanza more exquisite, Than memories of Grandmother, Who spoiled them�. a little bit. |
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