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Grandma’s Silver Hair



Can I brush your silver hair, Gram?

It looks so soft and fine.

And as I plait your silver braid,

With love I will entwine.


Will my hair be so pretty, Gram,

When I reach sixty-eight?

I hope it shines like yours does now

I think your hair looks great.


My Child, I’d trade these silver strands

For your bright golden locks,

If I could have your youthful zest

And turn back all the clocks.


And yet, my Dear, if that were so,

There’d be no precious child

To brush my lengthy shiny hair,

Then, child and Grandma smiled.


She passed the brush to youthful hands,

Unpinned her long cascade.

She felt love flowing through the brush —

That touch, a serenade.


They treasure this sweet moment,

For it will add a page

To memory’s book that years provide

From youth to golden age.


8/2/90         Phyllis DeWitt VanVleck        


1’st … PAW (in Pa) 1991

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