Poetry Friday this week is all about love… and grandmothers! The poem I’m sharing today was written by Judith Viorst for her granddaughter, Olivia. In essence, this is really about the breadth and depth of a grandmother’s love. The poem was taken from her poetry collection, I’m Too Young to be Seventy and Other Delusions. Pictured below is Daniel’s mom and our beautiful niece, Kacie Corinne. It’s one of my favorite pictures.
Poetry Friday round-up is hosted by MsMac at Check It Out!
“A grandma is warm hugs and sweet memories. She remembers all of your accomplishments and forgets all of your mistakes.” – Barbara Cage
How can a person not yet three years old
Already know that blue is her favorite color,
And hold fierce opinions on hairstyles and dress-up clothes,
And master the art of extracting one more candy bar and two
From her spineless grandma?
Where does a person not quite three feet tall
Learn the strategic uses of smiles, sighs, and kisses,
And acquire a litigators implacable skill,
Sufficient—in the case of child versus designated bedtime—to
crush the will
Of her wimpy grandma?
Why is a person a mere thirty pounds
Mighty enough to disrupt the entire household,
Charming enough to persuade us to welcome the mess,
And persistent enough to convert a firm “no—and that’s final!”
into a “yes”
From her weak-minded grandma?
What makes a person so new to this world
So certain that I am her loyal and faithful servant,
Here to read books and to not feed her anything green,
While she, the kid in the training pants with the chocolate
smudge on her cheek, is the absolute queen
Of her weak-minded, wimpy, spineless, besotted grandma?