Grandma Josie

I loved to walk with Grandma Josie,
her cheeks as red as any posy.

With cane in hand, she'd point to a stone
that was meant for me, and for me alone.

I'd drop it in my bag with glee,
a sacred treasure, just for me.

Once, swore she'd seen an ugly knave
rearing his head from mouth of cave.

She'd come upon a hissing snake,
Oh, how it made my small heart ache.

Swore she'd run so fast that day,
like a bear in heat, she'd hav'ta say.

Now grandma hobbled and wobbled, no lie -
could never picture her on the fly.

So I wiggled and giggled; then I swore,
infuriating grandma all the more.

Exasperated, she raised up her cane,
said of her existence, I was the bane.