Sitting in her torn draped old cotton sari,
In front of her thatched roof hut tired and weary,
Watching those trees accompanying from her vivid memories,
She often narrated stories of ghosts from one of those haunted trees,
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I feel bad that I never had the pleasure of having a village grandma beautifully portrayed in your nice poem!
this poem and grand mother touch many hearts, what a flow, good narrative, good poem, i liked it
I would benefit greatly an appointment with such a Grand Ma...you paint a vivid picture...thanks...Vallerie Lobell
Wow, this is wonderful, i had a taste of wonderful village konwlegde
I like the last line...true, grand-mas are the treasure of a tradition.Thank you