The soft lights glowed up and down the street,
A smell of wood stoves burning filled the air so sweet.
Grandma's house was the next turn,
A place for so many years, I did yearn.
Now with the cold nights wind wrapped around her house,
I longed for a glimpse of within,
I feel I'll be as snug, in her house, as a warm wood mouse.
I knew I would soon be nestled in grandmas arm's.
As she bragged on all my simple charms.
You've grown so tall, my child,
As the hugs upon me she piles.
The snow glistened in the yard, of the distant soft street lights glow.
I nestled in her warm bed as I watched her sew,
Each stitch she made with pride,
As I fell asleep I watched her nimble fingers over the material glide.
I awoke in the morning, sun light shinning in so brightly,
To the warm smell from the night stand of her coffee.
She lay sleeping at the bed-foot.
With the distant smell of old coal soot.
And that warm blanket she was making stretched over me, as I lay quietly,
To forever cherish grandma and that memory,
The love she gave so unselfishly,
Drifting now through this memory, of the smell of old coal smoke,
Still brings forth that warm feeling of grandma's love.
Oh the pleasant vision of the warm lights glow,
Of that night so long ago, of that stove's warmth.
As midnight approached on those nights I stayed with grandma,
Through my sleepy eyes I spotted,
That old coal stove she did stoke, to keep me warm through the night, as I slept and soaked up Grandma's love.
Linda Bates Terrell
Jan 31, 2009
I still have the blanket and pillow she made me.