Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A Poem for My Grandma Jane


There's No Place Like Home, Except Grandma's

Walking inside 
that red house of brick,
is like stepping into
an old fashioned lamp post.
There is a glow,
a warmth,
a welcoming yellowish orange light,
and a smiling orange haired grandma
waiting to meet you
at the door.

Illustration and Poem by Heather Dent



4 comments:

  1. I love the visual reflection in the glass!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks! I wasn't sure how that was going to turn out, but I think it came out okay.

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  2. Wow, beautiful idea to have the reflection like that - and sweet poem as well! :)

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