She’s small and plump and pink and white,
Looks soft as a powder puff.
A smile so wide lights up her face
And hair like dandelion fluff.
She brings such joy with a visit,
But leaves a quieter house behind.
In quiet moments I notice dandelion fluff
Blowing across my mind.
Little hands that pat my face,
Study the mysteries of my hand,
Make me smile with a “Bye-bye” or pat-a-cake,
Things that make being Grandma “grand.”
Tiny dimple-knuckled fingers
Can pull a hair do apart,
But I find dimple-knuckled fingers
Wrapped tightly around my heart.
©2010 Carol Morfitt