Grandmother Poem

An Old Woman's Story

This poem is a bit of a story, so it is long. This poem is about growing old, the toll life takes, and the joy of grandchildren.

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Oh Patricia, another lovely poem. I find all your poetry so relatable - it speaks to my heart. Please keep writing. Very best wishes, Ann

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There Once Was An Old Woman

Patricia A Fleming © more by Patricia A Fleming

Published by Family Friend Poems May 26, 2022 with permission of the Author.

There once was a woman
Who grew old with time.
She bore her life story
In the curve of her spine.

In the lines and the creases
Of her warm, weathered face
Lay those long nights of worry
And those arduous days.

In her pale, veiny hands,
Once so nimble and strong,
Rested remnants of hard work
And a deftness now gone.

She displayed her life's losses
In her dull, woesome eyes
And a heart often wounded
But well-lived and wise.

She was a doddering soul
With her sore, swollen feet
That could once trek for miles
And never grow weak.

Her voice was a whisper
Between shallow, strained breaths.
But she still told her tales
So she'd never forget.

Around her sweet smile
Were deep, puckered lines
From those smiles she shared
Through both good and bad times.

Now she sits on her porch
For hours each day.
In the brightest of sunshine
Or the heaviest rains.

Her head slips to her chest
As she drifts off to sleep,
Lost in her memories
And impossible dreams.

A tap on her shoulder
And she's now wide awake,
And there in her sights
Is that fresh little face!

"Grandma, it's me,
How are you today?"
And with those sweet words,
All the time fades away.

In those bright joyful eyes
Was her reason to be.
She was her will to go on
And her heart's steady beat.

She was her hope for tomorrow
And her wish for today.
She was that part of herself
That would not die away!

She was now all grown up
And all on her own.
In those deep moments of thought
And feeling alone.

She'd think of that old woman
Who had been her best friend
And she longed every day
To see her again.

She was that part of her soul
That still guided her way
And that love in her heart
That would not die away!



I was raised in Trenton, NJ, the middle of three children in an Irish American family. I always enjoyed writing from my early childhood and over the years, I kept journals with poems I wrote. At the age of 16, I discovered my Calling when I went Christmas caroling at the local psychiatric hospital. After graduating from the College of New...

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Oh Patricia, another lovely poem. I find all your poetry so relatable - it speaks to my heart. Please keep writing. Very best wishes, Ann

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