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Going to Grandma’s

(Another writing workshop prompt response. This time we were challenged to write a descriptive poem evoking strong memory. We were prohibited from using adverbs.)

Small rock house nestled
in sinuous mountain bend
signals our nearness
to the place of my spirit
where my soul sings
at giggles like mountain brooks and
whiskered bearhugs scratching my face

Cuddled by layers 
of starburst quilts
through jet-black country night
awakened by wafting 
hot-biscuit aroma
like home should smell


Diamonds of dew glitter
in the green-apple morning
shadowed by blue granite spires
as old as time

Puffs of white float above
while draping branches of the ancient willow
like an antebellum ball gown
wait to enfold me
Dedicated to my inimitable giggling grandmother, Georgia Olive Stillwell Dillard.

15 thoughts on “Going to Grandma’s”

  4. Merry Christmas, Carole and Ron, in your beautiful mountains. I really do enjoy your writing talents. Know that I look for and it makes my day to discover each new poem and/ or story. Maybe you’ll publish another collection before long. If you change publishers please let me know. I search Amazon books regularly for your newest publish. Happy Holidays to the whole family. ❤

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  5. Carole, you are the spittin’ image of your Grandmother in more ways than one … your beauty in your mirrored looks, your love for these mountains and that resonating giggle that captures it all! Thanks so much for sharing your heritage with us.

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