The parent of my parent
Is who you really are
The grand to my mother
One generation, not too far
•
From me to you
There’s just one space
Where my mother leaves off
You take her place
•
In training me
And exposing me to your ways
With each visit an adventure
Oh how I long for those days
•
In the summertime
Your place becomes my haven
For fun and relaxation
Sometimes a little misbehavin’
•
You see, Grandma’s are for fun
God knew that they would be
They’re good the second time around
Cause this time it’s for free
•
Thank you for reading and following
dorothy’s page © 2021 D. E. Young
dorothy's page 
Dorothy, your verses stir my own memories of my grandmothers. I am thinking of cookies right now (not sure why). One didn’t bake much so there was always a package of Oreos hiding in the cupboard. The other baked chocolate chip cookies, and they were waiting in an old coffee tin. Both shared so much love.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awww sweet memories.😊
LikeLiked by 1 person