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She had a quiet face.
There were tender lips
that uttered words of
soft attire.
She smelled of freshness.
Like the morning dew before
the glint of sunlight
warmed its liquid.
Her eyes were misted green.
Green with the color
of life and understanding.
Her shadow reflected
her warm soul as
she held the babe with
the awe of innocence.
Touching lightly the
rounded nose,
gently tickling tiny feet;
her finger gripped tightly
by the new life.
Her smile warmed
as she wore her
new title of Grandma
with pride and joy.
It glowed upon her
like a gold medal.
Such an achievement was
all hers as she basked
in the image it presented.

Copyright 2004
Pamela A. Lamppa
(All Rights Reserved)

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The following comments are for "Grandmother"
by PamelaALamppa

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