 |
| Old is Gold Image Courtesy: mcht |
There’s a woman I love,
Near her I’d feel home;
Greyed hair adorns her mane,
Scarred fingers borne of nails.
Mist of boldness covers her
Scaffolding in leaves of gold;
Pit as patter, her rainy feet,
Swished away life’s dreariness.
Mold as potter’s clay
Her whole speaks of tide’s play;
Skimmed up agelessness,
Bellowed in wild dismay!
Yet her face beget that smile,
That’d leave me to happy heights;
Pray, Lord, fill her with life,
Let me enjoy Grandma’s bribe!
by: Anoop M. Mathew
P.S.: Dedicated to my Grandma Mary
3 comments:
aww, so sweet... cute :)luvd it :)
Sweet and touching poem :)
That is so sweet! You have described her with such grace that leave us with smile, reminding us of the beauty and worth of our own granny. The last line just adds to the beauty :)
Post a Comment