Staying with Grandma and Grandpa ( to be a picture book with poetry)
Grandma has eyes with drooping lids,
but she can see any naughty kids.
Her hair is fading with the sun,
all tied up in a plaited bun.
She likes to garden as we play,
kneeling beside a fuchsia spray.
The garden is our great delight,
where blue tongue lizards hide in fright.
Grandpa’s chin is a prickly one,
we walk each day so he’s not glum.
His glasses fog when rain pours down,
he doesn’t mind a shiny crown.
When we stay at our grandparent’s place,
Grandpa takes us to a playground space.
We walk and talk till Millie the dog,
barks for her tea, then home we jog.
Playing ‘Hats’ is a game we like,
if Grandma loses she hates her plight.
Grandpa teaches us many odd words
learning new things we’re undeterred.
We like hitting the tennis ball,
though Millie tries to stop it fall.
She chases it and does not tire,
we just give up and we retire.
Hide and seek is another game,
creepings up is a bit more tame.
Finding Grandma beneath the stair,
we always know she hides in there.
Grandma cooks our favourite food,
off to bed in such a good mood.
Showered, cleaned and stories read,
ready for sleep, tucked up in bed.
Possums fighting and crickets shriek,
Millie barks ‘till she falls asleep.
Imagine oceans, oh so breezy,
drifting off is easy peasy.
Next morning we discuss our dreams,
nightmares sometimes have made us scream.
In the morning they’re not so bad,
our Grandparents’ dreams are never sad.
‘Remember to control your dreams,
face your demon, he’ll stop midstream.
Your dreams become a place for friends
you’re in charge and your thoughts transcend.’
Grandma and Grandpa both agree,
their advice is for you and me.
Remember good things as you play,
and give thanks for them every day.