Emma's Family

Gramma Em, they called her,
even those who weren’t her kin.
She dressed in suits and sturdy shoes,
secured her hat with a flowered pin.

She always looked right proper,
even though she hadn’t much
to show for all the years gone by,
at least, not that she could touch.

See, she had a way about her; 
people paused when she walked in,
young men hung on every word 
as she preached to them ‘bout sin,

And boys sat upright in their chairs
when Emma glanced their way,
for with one look, one lifted brow,
she said what words could never say.

She expected good behaviour 
from everyone she met;
she walked the straight and narrow
and for that, she won respect 

So when Em gave her approval
‘twas like riches to behold 
for despite her strict exterior
she had a heart of gold
 
And each year at Thanksgiving 
folks with no kin of their own
would gather down at Barney’s
not to spend the day alone

The homeless and downtrodden,
the poor and orphaned too
all shared turkey and gravy
with Emma in that room.

And when she bowed her head
to give thanks for the meal
a hush fell on the room,
a silence you could feel.

Not a whisper; not a word,
not a person made a sound
as Emma said her prayers
for every soul around

For Em counted her blessings
in the smiles she saw each day
and in the hearts she touched
in any little way.


november 2006
Janet Reid

   
Honourable Mention
Rhyming Poetry
19th Annual 
Timmins Daily Press Literary Awards
May 2007


 
 Awarded by New Horizons