I thought of the old George Jones tune when I saw this picture of my grandkids taken last weekend when they went to visit my little 88 year old mother (their great grandmother). Aaron is almost three and Ava is one.
I glad they have pictures to remember these times. I still remember visits with my great grandmothers when I was very young.
Several years ago, I wrote this poem for a state contest. The poem category was "Steel Magnolias". I thought of my mother when I saw the category and penned this poem for the occasion.
THE MYSTERY OF THE FLOWER
She was the Belle of Jeff Davis County.
Stunning to the beholder.
Long haired brunette
with more curves than a mountain highway.
She was raised in the traditions of the South.
Never leave the house without your make-up.
Always dress to the nines.
Her wide brimmed hats shadowed her face
to add to the mystery.
She learned to be strong and silent in adversity.
A player in a man’s world.
Influential, but not obtrusive.
Beautiful, but powerful.
She remains the same today.
Never making an appearance until her face is fixed.
Her hair shows no gray.
Graceful and fragrant like the Magnolia’s blossom.
But make no mistake,
her resolve is steel.
Dennis Price
