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Prose of Leslie W. Paine

My Grandma on the Farm

By Leslie W. Paine of Canadice NY

From the Canadice Chronicle, May 1990

Grandma likes to rise at dawn

To tend her poultry on the farm.

She raises many plants and flowers,

Her summer gardens grow and thrive

As if they’re glad to be alive.

To Grandma this is just a bit of Heaven.

Grandma keeps her home with care,

Her daily duties have no end,

But still she lives serene,

For well she knows the labors of her hands

Bring comfort, lack of need, and quiet peace.

To Grandma this is just a bit of Heaven.

Grandma likes to sit and play a game at evening time

With grandchild - five or six or seven -

A deeper joy can scarce be found.

To Grandma this is just a bit of Heaven.

Grandma likes to read and rest, at day’s long end,

Of life and love and mystery and mirth,

Of peoples strange in foreign lands.

To Grandma this is just a bit of Heaven.

May Heaven bless my Grandma!

And her virtuous life be long,

For I love Grandma - and to me

She’s more than just a little bit of Heaven.

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