Magnolia

A tree, a place, a state of mind

served by one whose love did bind.

That stately old magnolia tree

seemed taller than the eye could see.

No limit did its branches bear

surrounded by such loving care.

Grandma was like that old tree.

She was always Mom to me

and a quiet place from all harm,

a perfect shelter from the storm.

Grandma Millie

We all remember Grandma Millie

who never did things willy-nilly.

The antipasto, a tour de force,

was simply just a starter course.

With each new course she soon brought out

I knew that I would soon be stout.

 But something grand was now in-store

surpassing all that came before:

Gourmet lasagna expertly made

leaving all else in the shade.

We all knew she was a saint

who exercised so much constraint,

for when she met her Pavarotti

she was not the least bit naughty.

Certainly not a lost Lone Ranger

cause she never meet a stranger,

Grandma touched the world with love

with direct connections from above.

Granny Shepherd

As a lad I was honored to play,

and haven’t forgotten down to this day,

our traditional family card marathon

inspired by our expert card paragon.

I see her now with her green banker’s shade

as she is calculating which cards have been played.

The rules of Canasta I didn’t understand,

had trouble holding my cards in one hand.

When she upped the ante it got very complex

for Bolivian Canasta called for three decks.

It did not matter with her in the game

cause the final outcome was usually the same.

Granny was just a master at cards,

at picking up sticks from all of our yards,

and barking instructions for work to be done,

but coming from her it always such fun.

Her beautiful oil paintings were in high demand

along with those decorations made by her hand.

So here’s to our great and glorious grande dame.

She made it such fun to lose her card game.