Granny, A person with no surprise

Playing board-games and eating rice

I step onto a creaky board And see a bunch of mice, While I carry a hoard.

Yet with all the complaints and all the issues

I still hand her a tissue and watch her eyes glow with such pride

As she is still a granny Though a treasure trove to many

by Ihsan k.

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Fireman’s daughter,

Holy water,

Village fete,

Reprobate.

Stained leather,

Birds of a feather,

Accosted bride,

Harvey ride.

Bloody post,

A mother’s ghost,

Crime doesn’t pay,

Holloway.

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Her slippers shuffle along
The carpet, with swirls of faded bronze. 
Wrinkled hands worn by casino youth, waltz 
Through the smell of hot leather,
Balancing china cups and saucers.
With eyes that sing the marble green
Of the Empress staircase, her face is the ghost
Of a lost love.

And I, with tiny toes that cannot yet tap
On the ballroom floor below, 
Eat jam sandwiches
On my Grandmot...

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I walk from room to room
and try to catch a glimpse of you,
but all that I could see,
are muted shadows playing tag.

Sunlight catches visions
of days now stored in memory
and with your recent passing,
you climbed upon the misty crag.

The kitchen tap still leaks,
we've fixed that oft and time again;
your trusty stove still works,
those smells a...

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