Time to get cooking,
A table to spread,
Good things for good people,
But others might dread
What the Granny is fixing
If they mess with her brood,
She's wild when she's riled,
It's a dangerous mood,
Like all Granny folk
Both real and imagined,
She's mild as a child,
Like honey for catching,
But don't drive her down
To see what she's made of,
Granny's dyed-in-the-wool
Of strong simmered tough love,
She'll bless you with sugarspun
Apple pan dowdy,
With a storyful smile
And a hill granny howdy,
But herbs are drying
Behind where you're sitting,
And you've no idea
What she's put in her knitting,
When push comes to shove
To her loved ones beholden,
all Grannies have grit
And her promise is golden,
Depicted as wise woman,
witch one and crone,
She's always got allies,
She's never alone,
She'll call on what's needed
From bottom to top
Try to get her down
And she'll Granny up,
Pursuers will run
From shadows quite dodgy,
Says Granny, "nother more
Than homebrewed headology".
Trouble means its time to get your granny on -- Granny Up
4 comments:
love it. You just described my grandmother - straight from Ballymena Ireland
Yep. I was thinking of my Granny, too. I've seen her get her dander up a time or two. It was something you wanted to see from a safe distance and possibly from behind something much bigger than yourself.
"And you've no idea
what she's put in her knitting."
Love this!
Well said. I didn't have a granny like that; when I read this, I saw you :)
Post a Comment