Matriarch…#OctPoWriMo 2018 Day 17

woman holding baby near window
Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on


She was his and he was hers

Their lives were blessed in love.

Touched by heavenly hosts, were they,

Sent from God above.

With lots of little children

Running around her kitchen feet,

All their precious little babes

Adored, and loved, so sweet.

Though spread apart by the years

Brothers and sisters too,

They truly loved each other,

And they loved their parents too.

Soon they grew and had their own

Little ones to feed.

But always did they go back home

To mom and dad from need.

Each of them raised in the church

It was their parent’s way.

The grandkids came to learn this too

And with their grans, they’d go and pray.

Before you knew it, the family grew

With more children at the kitchen sink.

Learning how to cook with grandma

While grandpa was asleep.

The years they fly, as time always will

And great grandpa slipped away.

God had called one of his own

He always works that way.

And though the years take a toll

She is resolute, strong and stark.

And the little ones, they visit still

With the one – the matriarch.

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