Her hands were small and wrinkled.
Her smile, slightly crooked.
Her gait was slow and shuffled.
Oh her eyes; how they twinkled!
That’s my Emma, grandmother dear.
Her love for God was quite clear.
I miss my dear Emma.
Somehow I know you’re near.
I remember our special place.
The stories you told, filled with pearls and lace.
Every utterance, every movement filled with grace.
Each gesture lit up your face.
I miss those days we had together.
I often go back to those days in my dreams.
It covers me like a blanket of warm crystal beams.
Those memories will stay with me forever.
I often share a thought or two.
So many chldren will know you.
They can also visit our special place, and catch a glimpse of your beautiful face.
3/16/1996
