Poems My Grandmother Taught Me

Healing Balm

Hurt somehow, to me you run,
Your sad experience tell,
This part is the part that’s fun,
“Kiss it, Mother, make it well!”

Oh, if in some future years
Life’s problems grow and press,
I could kiss away the tears
And bring you happiness!

Bumped head or bruised knee,
What tender memories spell,
Dearest, when you come to me,
“Kiss it, Mother, make it well!”

~Dana B. Nelson