on the platter, bacon on the grill,
in the oven, as we kids cover from the chill.
in his chair, a smile in his eye,
Grandma’s at the stove,
the last bacon to fry.
furnace vent found, we kids steal its heat,
Grandpa rises up, as Grandma calls, “It’s time to eat”.
to our chairs, we kids settle in,
Grandpa says his grace, Grandma bows her head in a grin.
playing with food, happy as we are,
Grandma wipes my fingers and Grandpa lights up his cigar.
on the floor, Grandma tucks my shirt,
outside we kids run, to play with our trucks in the dirt.
near the woodshed’s door, Grandpa cuts kindling,
he’s been gone all day, he hears what we’ve been playing in.
we kids get washed up, supper’s been made,
off to bed we must go, all day at Grandma’s we’ve stayed.
like these are gone, but our hearts are filled.
kids now are the ones, warming all our Grandchildren’s chill.
are great, a lesson well taught,
the best gift given, when by a loving heart it is brought.
you God for this, our Grandparent’s love,
knew what was needed, and we kids learned it came from above.
thank you dear Lord,
You all along.
and Grandpa loved You,
now, me and mine,
where we belong.
At Grandma’s by Ronhales Deuteronomy 4:9