Off we go to Grannies Cottage
to look at boring photograpth footage.
Black and white snaps, when Dad
was a kid, playing knights in armour
with a dustbin lid. She makes us eat her
farmhouse cake, that came out of bakers
but she pretends it's her own bake.
We have to listern to her stories ones
that she tells so tall, about when she
was young, and was beauty of the ball.
Everytime we visit, she tells them over
again, but what's most annoying there
always the same.She sometimes exaggerate's
that's because eh! well she is getting old.
Then when we start to yawn we get thrown
out in the cold.She let's us play in her backyard
never in her garden, that is strictly barred.
Her lovely little cottage is so full of old world charm
but we must behave like well eh! and keep very calm
She has expensive china that has come down
through the ages.Beautiful books with picturesque
pages. she serves us tea in a cup and saucer.
Then reads us tales by a man called Chaucer.
We must not call her Granny, it must be Grandma
and we must always say thankyou, never Ta!
Now mum she has a go at, when she drinks from a
mug and she kicks our dog when he sits on her rug.
Mother say's it's her age, she can't deal with trival things.
It's just like the telephone, she never answers when it rings.
Daddy was an only child she found him hard to bear
now that she has Great Gran kids, its showing it's
wear and tear.
Next time we visit Granny, can we take her something nice!
What do you suggest my dears 'Three Blind Mice'

sylvia spencer

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/great-grannies-cottage/