Memories

I remember wintergreeen sprigs
growing under the dogwood tress
out by the porch in the back
where we used to play Gin Rummy,
my grandmother card shark and I.

A foot powered sewing machine
stood by the opening, viewing
that wonderful tree by the road.
From memories my mother built
in it a tree house just for me.

I remember a gala bash
spread out below the apple trees
(where David and I had our tent),
celebrating 50 grand years.

A quilt made of fond memories
covered years of loving marriage
with images embroidered in
hearts of children and grandchildren.

I remember a grape arbor
beneath which my grandmother stood
for a picture my mind treasures.
The grapes she grew were very good.

The memories you've made are good
and this poem is in thanks to you;
to both of you.  My grandmother's
death has not destroyed her memory.

For Granddad from Michael Scudder
A birthday & Christmas present
25-Dec-85 & 4-May-86