Print This Page#02105 Print This Page
There are things in this world that are more precious than gold,
The nature, the scenery, the stories that are told;
There's something more pure than a snow-white dove,
So honest and true is a grandmother's love.
Some are more special than others might be,
Sometimes they are only your true family;
Each locket of grey is a moment of time,
The trials, the worries; Oh, she's seen all kinds.
Her love it stays with you, no matter where you go,
Her embracing heart tells you that she knows;
The leaves changing colour bring summer to fall,
Her smile and her laughter bring joy to us all.
Just sit there and watch as she rocks back and forth,
And listen to stories where you never get bored;
She talks of the old times and how they used to be,
When we grew from the land and fished from the sea.
When she talks of her family, "Oh, what did I do?
Where did I go wrong to rear such a crew?"
I said, "Nan, don't you worry, you have done your best,
There's nothing you could do sure, when they leave the nest."
As we both looked outside and saw a storm coming on,
I hear a kettle whistling that old familiar song;
She's running to get a lunch for us all,
Some crackers and tea, b'y, she's sure on the ball.
There are things in this world that are more precious than gold,
The nature, the scenery, the stories that are told;
There's something more pure than a snow-white dove,
So honest and true is a grandmother's love.
Note: Written for Dave's grandmother, Gladys Tapp, in the summer of 1995, a few months before she died.
