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My Grandma
The little old lady isn't around anymore
to push me, to encourage, as she did before
she stood only four foot eleven
so sweet, so kind just like heaven
Up at the crack of dawn
always knitting with yarn
she died at eighty-six
my problems she always could fix
With a twinkle in her eye
and being very sly,
she told me I could make it
because of fame I would get
She couldn't read or write
but she was very bright
at cards she loved to play
she knew how to count, without delay
How I miss grandma dear
loved her so, wish she was still here
so many memories of long ago
of biscuits she made out of fresh dough
As trains passed by each day,
up she lifted me to see, that was her way
everyone loved her very much
her face I wish I could touch
How I miss grandma dear
to think of her brings a tear
I know she's not here anymore
oh, if she could encourage me as before
poem
by
Jim Foulk
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