A folk poem on the death of Velma DeFore Black, my maternal grandmother, 1989.
No more chicken and dumplings,
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more patchwork quilts,
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more sewing pillows,
No more arranging flowers for Homecoming Sunday
at Mt. Philadelphia Baptist Church.
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more calling Cousin Bethany "Miss Minerva,"
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more walking slowly to steady her walk.
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more endearing talks on growing up,
Mawmaw's gone to heaven.
No more comforting touches of that wrinkled,
but ever-so-soft hand.
Mawmaw's gone to The Promised Land.
No comments:
Post a Comment