Nana’s House – A Poem

Nov 14, 2014

Xianna Michaels Flower Mandala

From time to time I’ll share a poem I’ve written for children, often from the child’s point of view.

This one came to me when my oldest grandchild, A, was a little girl. We spent so many magical hours together doing art and exploring my house. I try to capture that same magic with her siblings and cousins as they become old enough. What sheer joy!

Nana’s House

Nana’s house has many doors

And windows that have cranks,

And miles of ancient wooden floors

That look like battered planks.

 

A gazebo that becomes a stage

And old green bells that chime,

A turret that looks like a cage

With bars that I can climb.

 

And Zaidy has a stethoscope

And other doctor things

And lots of cords for jumping rope

And a violin that sings,

 

And Nana has a crystal ball

(It really works, I think),

But what I like the most of all

Are her fountain pens and ink!

 

We sit together writing books;

We work with paints and clay,

And then explore the hidden nooks

Where Mommy used to play.

 

But Nana wasn’t Nana then,

A long, long time ago.

She just became a Nana when

My Mom had me, you know!