My grandmother, Beatrice Smith, the subject of this poem, was born on March 5, and every year about this time, as I think about her and miss her, I usually write some verse in her honor. Perhaps there is someone you miss also, and perhaps these lines will bring a smile to your face or a warm feeling to your heart as you think about whoever it is… if so, I am sure my grandma would have been glad. Tim
The oak trees used to be much
taller,
My childhood home was much
larger, too;
The cares of life seemed so
much smaller,
How I miss those old times,
friend, don’t you?
Recalling those old times
brings pleasure,
Just thinking of loved ones
now long gone;
It would bring me joy beyond
measure
To go back home ere my life
is done.
How I’d like once more to
romp and play,
I’d like to feel grandma’s
sweet embrace;
It’d mean so much more than
I can say
If I could look once more
on her face.
To hear her laugh, and see
her sweet smile,
Let me know that ev’rything
was well;
But she’s been gone for such
a long while,
Oh, when she left how our
spirits fell.
No more can we her lovely
voice hear,
Or stop for lunch and have
a visit;
It felt so good when she drew
us near,
Oh, Grandma’s house, how much
we miss it.
Yes, life goes on, and I must
go too,
No matter how much I miss
the past;
The mem’ries I have to see
me through,
And I know that the mem’ries
will last.
This world is poorer now without
her,
Her lovely smile and her silver
hair;
It does us good to think about
her,
In this old world filled with
strife and care.
A precious mem’ry through
the ages
Of innocence in the days gone
by,
I like to turn back to the
pages
Of my life ere Grandma had
to die.
The oak trees used to be much
taller,
My childhood home was much
larger, too;
The cares of life seemed so
much smaller,
How I miss those old times,
friend, don’t you?
……….H. L. Gradowith……….
02-28-2002