Jenny is our daughter (grand);

When she could only toddle,

She'd like to climb up on our knees,

And have a moly-coddle.

As she grew up, and went to school,

Her cuddling days soon passed

But still she liked our company,

Opinions often asked.

Almost before we noticed it,

Grandchild was in her teens

And all at once we were sea-changed,

We found ourselves 'has-beens'.

For now, you see, we were too square

Old fashioned, dull and boring,

Believing, as we did, in prayer,

'Top of The Pops' ignoring.

And so she went her own sweet way

With friends we knew were trouble;

Her family held no longer sway,

Her mother's worry, double.

As time went by, our Jenny dear

(She hardly ever came us near),

She thought grandparents far too queer,

To visit more than once a year.

So with her friends she spent her time,

Indulged in games she thought were fine.

But vital parts, they gnawed away,

And later she would have to pay.

The years flew by, then Jenny, vain,

Was overcome by ache and pain

Surgery you, the doctor said,

Without it, you will soon be dead.

Hospital bed, lone place of dread,

Was not the choice of Jenny ours.

So, pleased she was when sweet nurse said,

Your granny's here, she's brought you flowers.

She held her hand, eyes wide with fear,

And whispered in her granny's ear

'They operate at morning light,

Please say a prayer for me, tonight.'

Our Jenny never did forget,

Behaviour past she'd oft regret,

As she recalled the things she'd done —

There's more to life than having fun.

Now has a toddler of her own,

Who loves to crawl on great-grand's knee.

We hope and pray she may not be

Tempted as Mum, when later grown.

Poetry and Prose Archives

Len (Snowie) Baynes

11.01.07 Front Page

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