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