The soft
breeze played across the brow of Amanda young and fair –
She dreamed
a dream of her life to come and the joys of life she’d share.
The years
went by and with marriage, came a family of her own –
To this
world she gave three daughters and two sons,
Her heart
has known the sadness of losing her first mate –
But she had
the courage to carry on with her unfaltering faith.
Her family
raised to grown-ups have all made homes of their own.
Her
descendants now are many – thirty is
the sum.
Amanda, she
is old now – the dark tendrils, they are grey.
But those
playful Ozark breezes find her heart and smile still young and gay,
Her
footsteps are not so springy as they were in yesteryear –
But her
voice is still happily singing and to me her tone is so dear.
You see I
love Amanda dearly – she’s my grandmother you know –
And I ponder
oh, so deeply, when the soft breezes blow –
That breeze
that just now brushed my cheek – I wonder – could it be –
That first
it kissed my Grandma’s face and then came on to me.
Gaylia
Kenslow – Stogsdill
April 23,
1963
Written for
her Grandmother Amanda Elizabeth Morris
Copyright
Roy Richard
