the sleeping baby gives a smile, listening to her sweet lullaby. which the young granny keeps compile. the song of sleep for your eyes. her talent was so versatile, she can make any baby stop cry. in my sleep, to check on me, she always come by. A young granny with a sad smile bid bye-bye.
This is the love I know only in dreams, In my grandmother's home, Where I sit in a sunlit glow, writing beautiful things, Listening to her stories. Where I'm selfless and whole. Oh, I pray, Oh, I wish, She lives forever to tell me more. This is the love, This is the love I know only in dreams
its been 8 years since you’ve gone to a better place. On one hand I’m sad that you’ve left and on the other, I’m sorta glad because the present world isn’t as beautiful as it used to be. But I’ll meet you soon granny. And then we can sing together to our hearts content and I can listen to your stories whenever and forever❤️
Have you seen my granny? She shoots like Johnny Wayne, Smokes cigarettes like Garbo, Sings like Kelly in the rain.
She's doubtless at the movies Watching Audrey zip 'round Rome, And wishing she were young enough To run away from home.
My nana laughs like Rita, Plays chess like Steve McQueen, She smoulders like her heroes do Up on that silver screen.
Have you seen my granny? She loves Bogart and Bacall, And in her dreams forever She is blonde and six-foot tall.
Third verse NOT a team player. Will revisit. Gotta go!
‘Movies, to him and the majority of the planet, are an enhancement to a life. The way a glass of wine complements a dinner. I’m the other way around. I’m the kind of person who eats a few bites of food so that my stomach can handle the full bottle of wine I’m about to drink.’ - Patton Oswalt, Silver Screen Fiend: Learning About Life from an Addiction to Film
fondly remember your grandmother's house as I share with you mine
a pantry, tall as a mountain when I was six. a forbidden box of sugar cubes that was never really off limits cookies, warm and soft. how does she always have them? sitting in the rocking chair, toes miles away from the floors strange stories you hope aren't true ice cubes made of lemonade an afternoon refresher a sunday spent at home, at your grandma's house
always drawing and painting playing in the yard her cats in your lap, warm and fuzzy she braids your hair with her wise, experienced hands does she always smell like lavender? gumdrops and hard candies playing dominoes on the floor there's nowhere else I'd rather be than at home at my grandma's house
"In my time" Its her way of staying relevant Like a deer caught in the glare of an intruding pair of head lights A slave to the clock .. Her master contemplating her worth
"Her time is up" A life spend chained to the shackles of expectation and imagination Disillusioned soul .. Clouded by the illusions of fortune and imomortality Clarity was reality A painful realisation
"Tik Tok" Death is on her door He collects whats his His fair EVERYONE is his customer