N - The Apron

My Nanna wore an apron
for all her mornings tasks;
such a pretty shade and floral
and I have kept the last.

by Gillian.E. Shaw Click to read full poem

Comments (7)

BONJOUR GILLIAN...NICELY CRAFTED PIECE...AS PER YOUR USUAL.. NON FAUX PAS', MON AMI....C'EST DIX, POUR VOUS...AU REVOIR ''''''''''FRANCOIS...~f, j. r.`''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Ah how wonderful to have such a keep-sake, this is a warm and gentle poem, I enjoyed it very much Thankyou Love Duncan X
What a charming poem. I enjoyed reading it. My mother, too, always wore aprons. Now, I wish I had saved one!
It's amazing what you remember about your granny, with mine it was knitted teacosies and wonderful dumplings in thick tasty stews. So many memories. Lovely story. Sincerely Ernestine Northover. PS Thanks for you kind comments.
Thank you for sharing your lovely little reveries.
Thank you for sharing your lovely little reveries.
Nicely done, Gillian. It's the little piles of neatly-laundered and darned that can be the bittersweet discoveries after bereavement...the humble ordered life...