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I keep reading
lovely tributes
to grandparents
especially
to grandma
it seems

I smile
sometimes
a tear
then a tug
remembering wishes
remembering dreams


I remember
kids at school
"headed to grandma's"
at the end of
school days

going to see her
going to play

I remember
my yearning
when
hearing about
the cookies she made

the stories she told
the hugs she gave

It might be
grandma
or nanny
or gran

they rang
in my ears
as I wished for
my own to listen
and understand

those names my lips
wanted badly
to form

my tongue to
taste
cookies
fresh and warm

my arms wanted
to hug her
tight

as she hugged me
back just right

my fingers ached to
brush
fine silver hair

as I'd rock
there in her chair

to tenderly stroke it
away from soft eyes

perhaps
as blue
as blue as the skies

my heart wanted
to say
I love you
grandma
I love you, I do
and
one day
I'll write a poem
just for you
I know grandparents are special. I just wish I knew it firsthand. My grandmothers both died before I was born and my grandfathers when I was far too young to remember them. Thank you to those of you who are/were lucky enough to have grandparents for the beautiful tributes I read here!
Her musky, aged, antique smell.
Every wrinkle on her face had a tale to tell.
Cracks on her palms, treasured stories of hardships & struggles.
Walked with a limp, like a boulder on her shoulder back.
Didn't fall even with the deepest toe crack.
I lay my head on her motherly warm lap.
Her silvery smooth flowing hair,
gleamed with pride for her only heir.
She caressed my hair, sent chills down my spine.
Don't you worry grandma, down here everything is (not so) fine.
Wish you were here for me when I need you the most.
I will be there in the stars, will meet you once I'm mighty close.

I miss you, grandma.
 Feb 2018 Patricia Cikus
mk
02.14.18
 Feb 2018 Patricia Cikus
mk
the star of my sky
the moon of my night
with my last breath
for you, i will fight.
i love you on more days than one.
the hardest
part of
letting someone
you love
go is
making yourself
stay away
 Mar 2016 Patricia Cikus
JR Potts
She was wild like skinny dipping at midnight, stars watching overhead and falling in love with moonlight. The way it lay upon her skin made the ocean envious of her depths within and sometimes between us. She was my sister, not in blood but in orbit. A Venus to my Earth, forged from the same collapsing star and if the universe was in fact to be infinite then this moment would happen again, and again, and again an immeasurable number of times. I found comfort in this thought, knowing though our existence was meaningless, it was still full of feeling, and this feeling, right now, it insisted on existing forever.
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