Grandma's Apron

An apron hangs behind the door,
been there for quite a time.
Since Grandma went to serve the Lord,
Now her apron's silver lined.

Oh my! The meals she used to serve,
with biscuits light as air.
And pancakes from the griddle,
none ever could compare.

She'd bustle round the kitchen,
And shoo the young ones away.
for fear they might get burned and such,
on the oven, she would say.

Her calico apron was her symbol,
All starched and ironed just so.
If it was made of "wash and wear"
She would have starched it still I know.


at the foods that we now buy.
Microwave meals or heat and serve,
foods she would rather cook and fry.

When God took Grandma to Heaven,
I'm sure He was aware.
She would want to cook for the Angels,
Her pies must perfume Heaven's air.


An era passed, we lost a lot,
and not just cakes and pies.
we miss "the loven from the oven",
but most of all, from Grandma's eyes.

Copyrighted© Verna Parks- 2002
Used With Permission

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