'Twas such a lovely flappy thing
I remember....as she waved
Grandma's apron in the wind
Overflowing all she gave
Swishing dust and grubby faces
Squeezing warm to that embrace
Firewood, for that cozy hearth
Flowed from her pinny's grace
Pie apples, berries, lemons
Corn, pecans, peas n' beans
Grandma gathered with her love
To care for you and me
Yet, 'twasn't gentle folds of cloth
But the hands that bore it so
'Twas how she held that love
That caused our hearts to glow
We didn't know, in all the living
How secure in her we felt
All the loving that she managed
Our hearts to softly melt
For, when we look back now
Swirling pictures in our mind
'Tis the apron wiping hands
Portrayed such love divine
Then where today is Grandma's apron
The starched cloth, embroidered art
Why, 'twould never fall to tatters
For we keep her in our heart
Oh, the comfort of the memory
Our eyes o'erflow with tears
God's selfless apron Grandma's
Bless every darling dear
Soft memorable Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems © 2008
Poetry From The Heart
Grandmother's are Mothers topped with apron frosting
All the feeling my Grandma
didn't have words for, now I understand,
she gave me with love, from her apron wiping hands
The very best device kept from those days of yore,
A tool so very useful for nearly every chore
Is not the modern kitchen, utensils by the score
But the hearty steadfast apron, that every Grandma wore
When I would visit Grandma. I was always very blessed,
by the apron that she wore, and the love that she expressed.
Always she had two, one for baking and one for outside mess.
And when that bow was tied, then Grandma's day would start.
Just a simple cloth it hung, but it was full of heart;
She used it for shooing flies away or fowl that stalked her legs.
Then it became a bountiful basket, for gathering the eggs,
And tiny just-hatched chickens, needing somewhere soft and warm
Or a li'l orphaned lambkin, born on a frosty morn
That apron carried kindling, to stoke the household fire.
And brought in a load of washing, or became a quick hairdryer.
To protect her hands, a hot pad, to lift up steaming pans,
and when anyone was overheated, she waved it as a fan.
If cold, she wrapped up babies, or even her own arms,
At dinner time, she'd flag it, to bring men in from the farm,
Dirty ears and tender tears, were always sweetly wiped,
and it became a hiding place, if little kids were shy.
Vegies any season, in the summer, spring and fall,
were brought to the kitchen table in that apron carry-all.
Any pie fruits she collected, were secure with apron pins
When peas were shelled, the hulls were tipped out to the hens.
Oh, how much that trusty apron, could dust all down the hall
If unexpected guests turned up, with a sudden friendly call.
One day Grandma went to glory, God called her to rest
'Cause from her life of apron loving, so many had been blessed.