Grandmother, may I come and sit at your feet,|
And bury my head in your lap,
And bring back memories sweet,
As we chat of this and that?
Tell me of Mother when she was a girl.
Was she always sweet and good?
Did she laugh and dance - her life a whirl?
Or do as told she should?
Was Mother lovely when she was wed?
Did she have then this charm?
Was she ever of life afraid?
Was she awkward with me in her arm?
Will I ever like Mother be?
You alone can truly tell,
Because you mothered both her and me,
You know us both so well!
Grandmother, I want dearly to hear
Of Mother and her romances
But I canít sit at your feet - I fear
You live only in my fancies!