Peggy

• Amy Davis, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2009

She was the sound of shuffling slippers on dewy morning grass and the squeak of the washing line.
She was the taste of the tree in the front yard; sweetness that changed with no warning sign.
She was the touch of expensive lace; soft and smooth like floating on cloud nine.
She was the smell of a cupboard full of old clothes; musky and strong like old port wine.
She was the sight of beautiful flowers; colourful and bright with twisted green vine.
Nanny Peg; you were my hero and as for my feelings; there are no words that could ever define.