She never gave me jewelry
She never gave me gold

But the treasures of her heart
Her bounty was untold

She wiped my nose and dried my tear
And painted visions wide

I always knew that she was near
And in her arms I’d hide

She never gave me things that
Gather dust upon the shelf

But, what she did was
Empty out, for me, her very self.

© Diane E. Dockum
May 18, 1991

Author’s note: This poem has never been published before, except in the program of my Grandmother’s funeral in 1991. I have been having dream after dream of her the last week or so. I thought I would share this one, since I’ve had her on my mind. April 24, 2015