Her calm, sweet, smile never waned for me
Her presence, as soothing as the shade of a tree
Her lullaby, that magical tune
With fairy dust, sleep was sewn.
Her memories, even precious than gold
Those feeble hands, again I want to hold.
She had a fragrance of her own, so dear to me
Oh! Dida*! How can I forget thee!
Dida*- Maternal grandmother
Shared with Midweek Motif ~ Honoring our Elders