http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com/sexandhistory
http://www.youtube.com/StanleyPacion
HER GRANDMOTHER, II
Was not handsome, nor was she particularly wise,
No one ever said she was the smartest,
But she painted well, an artist,
And following the common adage,
Different time and place, who knows the reputation,
The renown she might have attained?
She dressed the girls in pricey sets,
And every one appreciated it,
For Dad was gone,
Family, three girls abandoned,
And Mother was sick,
Had to stay long time in the sanatorium,
But Grandma had her ways,
Paid no heed to underwear,
Think on this a moment, for who could see it?
Though it be tattered and dirty,
And Lord knows should have been replaced,
Especially when one consider the cash outlay,
That she paid no heed to any outfit’s cost.
She favored subtle, flower prints,
Nothing garish; she was master seamstress,
A healthy woman, who loved her cats
(Fed those both inside and outside the house)
And took in every kind of stray, animal and human,
A former dancer who partook of chorus,
Had her training down at PARK, called LUNA,
And, all who knew her swear,
She practiced kicks, over head, when she had,
She had already celebrated birthdays past seventy.
Did she swap a place for her star on the walk,
Take lead role in gilded cage instead?
No way, she was tough and worked hard,
Created a wonderful home and with natural talent,
She made a big garden, a green-thumb delight.
And guess what! To top it off,
She married well, a union man, a good provider,
A leader who was respected and adored by all.
And then I heard,
Heard her granddaughter’s heart, it very clearly said,
‘How I wish, how I wish she were here’.
‘How I wish she were here today’.
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