Poem to my granddaughter: point-to-point.

Dear Rheannon,

We’ve come back from Aunty La,

It wasn’t near but not too far.

She took us to some pretty places

And even a day at the horse races.

Point-to-point is what it’s called.

It was so cold we were not enthralled.

The wind it whistled across the grass,

Especially when the horses pass.

They jumped the fences and some fell over,

Tossing their riders in the clover.

No jockey was hurt, thank goodness for that,

They were well padded and wore hard hat.

We had taken a picnic to eat “al fresco”.

No we did not buy it all from Tesco.

Whilst we sat and shivered as we ate

The food from off the plastic plate

All we wanted was to be warm

Like a crocus in a corm.

We didn’t wait ´til the end of the day,

The wind was crisp and the sky was grey,

So we left the Duke of Beaufort’s land,

Which was vast and very grand

And set off back to Lara’s  place,

With red noses on our face.

Not clip on ones, but you know that.

Granddad wore his furry hat.

Now we are in our tin home

Until we decide once more to roam.

Come and see us, we hope, soon.

It’s not large  but there’s plenty of room.

Am looking forward to a reply.

all my love

Grandma Frances

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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1 Comment

  1. jacqui j

     /  03/05/2011

    I found, I saw, I travelled through and thought of you.

    Have a great trip, remember us
    struggling through to enjoy the view
    of family and home, the historic view
    trouble and strife,
    well – thats life.

    G-d bless, be well and true,
    both sending our love to you.

    Reply

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