Grandma’s Abode!

There are lives I have lived,
There are lives I haven’t.
There are hopes I have abandoned,
There are dreams I have forgotten,
I’m no superhuman,
Nor do I intend to be,
Like a humming bird
I fly back and forth,
I relive hopes and dreams,
They fear no death,
For none shall have one,
Like grandma’s abode,
We meet each burning fall,
With a promise!

Always!

Have you noticed,
How everything old has this beautiful,
Nasally mellifluous kinda fragrance,
Libraries full of old books,
Mom’s hair from her extralong hugs,
Lanes from your growing years,
Ripped Jeans from early years of college,
Pictures with no wrinkles,
Grandma’s Pickle jars,
And
Dad’s perfume,
oh, no matter where I am,
I will recognize them all,
Always!