As waxen as ivory,seamed as old lace.
Such is the beauty of Granny's face.
Experience and wisdom has silvered her hair.
Gracious acceptance from a lifetime of care.
As the cool evening after the hot sun,
So is a mother when her labour is done.
Her offspring behind her, her mind quiet and still.
tender hands folded, at peace, on her dress.
Eyes dimmed with a life of spent joys and stress.
Sweet is the dignity of shoulders that droop.
Time adds frailty and grace to her stoop.
Humour and pity lurks there in her glance,
With courage and patience for eventide's advance.
Past earthly achienvement, gone restless desire.
Remaining a symbol our lives to inspire.
She emanates the charm of a virtuous life.
A soul that has given as mother, as wife.
Submitted by: Emily May Horan, Copyright, 2006.
Story Location: Dulverton, Somerset
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