[Model A Ford parked in the church lot on a
Sunday Morning (click picture for larger size)]
Over the hill
Over the hill and through the woods
Used to say, "when I'm old and gray"
But now I'm there Grandma is gone
My dear Grandma has passed away
Where she has gone I think I know
Over the hill and through the wood
On the porch she's waiting for me
I was her favorite of our brood
She always had stories to tell
And homemade cookies in her jar
Over the hill and through the woods
Took me for rides in her old car
That was years ago now I'm old
Stories I have they must be told
Four of my toy Cast Iron 1:18 scale Model Ford Convertibles, 1956 Sunliner, 1937 Cabriolet, 2003 Mustang GT, and 1965 Mustang. (I have had a real '56 Ford Sunliner Convertible and still own a '98 GT Mustang Convertible.)[click on the picture for a larger size, click again for 'super sized']
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- Poem and Photo Copyright, Jimmiehov 2019 (poem) and 2015 (link) and 2016 bottom photo, All Rights Reserved
- I am linked with Rommy in the Imaginary Garden at http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2019/08/the-tuesday-platform_13.html?m=1
I kind of love the image of your grandma waiting for her beloved grandkids to come on home again, so they can catch up on the stories they missed over a batch of homemade cookies. Mmmm...cookies.
ReplyDeleteDon't stop telling those stories, Jim!
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful memory to have when you too am old.. remember to have cookies for someone else to remember you by.
ReplyDeleteI had a grandma like yours, though mine never learned to drive, as my grandpa always drove her.i love the rhythm and rhyme in this, Jim.
ReplyDeleteHow right you are Jim, don't let your memories disappear but let them live on in poetry (or prose if you are both P & A).
ReplyDelete