She was practical, my grandmother.
Reserved too, with a sense of humour
dry as a twig.
She raised chooks in the old days -
sold dressed poultry and eggs.
(Mum said she fed more rats than chooks!)

I have some of her recipes still -
handwritten with a nib pen.
Sunbeams (Mrs. Bounce)
Walnut Cake (Mrs. Beach)
Cheese Scones (Madge)

Her body was heavy, with bunions.
She wore hideous 'health shoes'.
Mum told us she never hurried,
not once.

She had Parkinsons' as I remember her
and her right hand trembled.
She'd been a brilliant pianist too.
'Perfect pitch and never practiced
more than two hours a day.
Play anything you put in front of her
and the sweetest tone.'

Chopin was her favourite
Her playing used to make Mum cry.
(Mum didn't like to cry much)

Bert, Mum's dad, was musical too.
Loved Bach.
Mum used to say he only married Mopsy for her music.
After the twins were born
she locked him out of the bedroom.

When she went dotty,
Mum visited her every Wednesday
in the nursing home.
She used to say the same thing,
over and over again.
'Well, well, well, what do you know about that! '

She was in that home for years.
I wish I'd heard her play.

Alison Cassidy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mopsy/