So many hours, Granny rocked me
in that old rocking chair
out on the prairie.

Back and forth rocking—she sang a sweet song,
and I knew in her arms
I would never go wrong.

At dusk we would rock to the firefly’s beat
as they flickered and flew
around head and feet.

Grandpa would snore in the chair next to her
with his old dog beside him,
breeze ruffling his fur.

But I can still feel the warmth of her arms
wrapped tight around me,
I would come to no harm.

And now that I'm Grandma—I still have her old chair,
I rock my sweet babies,
and cuddle them there.

They'll remember the quiet and peace of the night,
safe and secure
as I hold them tight.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll pass memories along—
being rocked by their granny
as she sang a sweet song.

Granny's Rocker written by Tamara Hillman ©2009