Excellent A poem about my Grandmother who raised me Dreaming of Jeanette by Stuart Irving A poem about a Woman contest entry

It’s your blood that fills my pulse  Thumping full with pride  A teacher, friend, debunker of falseness ,a philosopher of kind  You taught me how to be strong  And when to show I’m weak  Gave me a home where I could belong  Wiped tears from off my cheek Allowed me time to say my piece  Just to stop me at a glance  Eyes which told me time to cease Yet would allow another chance  still you comfort, as selfishly I grieve  When it’s hurts to much, or so it seems  You remind me that you will never leave  As you visit me in my dreams

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