Me and sister sitting outside,
Beneath warm sunny skies,
A pail of water and pile of dirt,
Making bunches of mud pies.

Grandma calls out the window,
Cookies and milk ready to eat,
Sister and me get up and run,
Trying to each other beat.

Grandma stops us at the door,
Whoa there you are dirty as can be,
March over to the washstand,
Clean up your faces so I can see.

Well water cold as you will find,
A fresh laundered wash cloth,
Homemade soap lathered into,
A pan full of tiny bubbled froth.

We would get all squeaky clean,
Anything to get at Grandma's fare,
The best Tea Cakes made with love,
Fresh cold milk served with care.

Take time to thank the Lord for,
Grandma's special treat,
We were taught to say Grace,
Each time we sat down to eat.

We fill our tummies to the brim,
Clear away the dishes and crumbs,
Back to Grandma's Washstand,
Rinse faces, fingers and thumbs.

The pans always had fresh water,
The soap was cleaned too,
The mud from our dirty hands,
Gave Grandma plenty to do.

A beautiful lady filled with love for,
Neighbor, family or friend,
Always gave in time of need,
A helping hand she would extend.

A memory etched forever,
An example ever so grand,
Love from a lovely lady and,
My love for her Old Washstand.

©Gayle Davis
30 August 2010
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