TITLE: Gran's Pantry By Linda Watson Owen 03/13/05 |
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I love to smell Gran’s pantry
It’s spices, herbs, and grains.
I stand surrounded by its shelves
And breathe its fragrance in.
Its cinnamon’s a dancer
In whirling silk delight
Who joins exotic others
In scents of fancy flight.
Her sparkling jars of peaches
Beside the candied pears
Stand row by row with garden greens
Enough to eat and share.
I love to smell Gran’s pantry
And see its rainbow fare
If you can’t find me out at play
You’ll probably find me there.
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