There will be herbs in the graveyard,

there will be lights on the stone

and on the face of Dear Granny;

She will not be alone.

She was a long way from childhood

she was a long way from home.

She had to leave for tomorrow

and get her children to bloom.

She was so soft and so tender

but she was filling the space.

She was the gentle defender,

she gave the angels a face.

But sometimes dark filled the feature;

you saw the shades of the night.

She was the truth, not the preacher:

She kept the children in light.

As time flew, so did Granny,

she walked the miles on the field.

She was the guardian nanny,

using her wings as a shield.

Well, she was never the story,

to reach the front page at all.

But she was grace and the glory,

always protecting the small.

There will be herbs in the graveyard,

there will be lights on the stone

and on the face of Dear Granny;

She will not be alone.

                2013 © Torbjorn Gideskog

Linn Jung-Persson

  Hermine Jung