My Mom’s Mom

Note: My poetry challenge today didn’t follow the prompt, but I am trying to write a poem about my grandmother–Grandma Koehler–using words of only one syllable. The poem is based on an essay I wrote once the same restrictions Though I was proud of my essay, this is a poem-in-progress and what I have so far:

My Mom’s Mom

Oh she would not stand
to be called “Gran” or “Gram”
No she would not care
for such rash, rude names–
not in jest–not at all!

Yes, we knew with her
We’d play our role–(no fail!)
But there are the true tales
Of her past’s young days
when she dared break the rules.

As a rare young girl,
she loved and learned her math,
and would wait and wait
for that class in school . . .
then, in her play she’d “add”!

So when she’d grown,
she left her hearth and home
to find a “man’s” math job.
There she could add all day
and earn her own work’s wage.

(Few girls did that then!)
But one bleak day her dad
stood at his smart girl’s door
“You are missed at home,”
was his stern, harsh claim.

She bent to his will, but . . .
At home . . . she joined with
those who marched to vote
and “add” her clear, true voice
by her will’s deeds, once more!


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