Friday, February 6, 2009

My Grande' Goes A-Walkin'

My Grande goes a walking,

Winding down the street

Pushing someone’s stroller,

Sticky donuts in the seat.


My Grande goes a walking

Over hill and dale,

Holding little hands in hers,

Looking for a sale.


My Grande goes a walking

Miles in a day,

With bags of eggs, toast and ham,

And please is all we say.


My Grande goes a walking,

Passed the squealing lanes

Glasses thick and eyes grow dim,

Walking with a cane.


My Grande goes a walking

Not as far today,

Eyes too cloudy barely see

Near the house she stays.


My Grande walks no more

Down the winding street,

She watches Lawrence Welk instead

Of being carried by her feet.


Oh if I could make her breakfast, oh if I could hold her hand,

Oh if I could push her stroller,

Whisper softly and understand.


I’ll lend to her my good eyes to see with,

I’ll lend to her my strong legs to walk,


And when her body no longer tarries on the winding trails of Earth

I will go a walking for her,

Laugh and giggle on the way.


Holding onto little hands,

I’ll remember Grande’s own

That taught my feet to walk this way

And tarry not till they find home.


I love you my Grande-Cia, thank you for all the giving you have blessed me with in a lifetime, I love you and love you and love you and wish you a safe and speedy passage. We will play again next time we go a-walkin'.

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