The Fourth Aunt

April 15, 1959

There are four ladies in the room.

One tall and prim,

One short and fat,

One cheerful in a fancy hat.

The fourth one, pray, whose child is she?

A grandma still in infancy.

Her hands and face are worn with care,

But pebbles play about her hair.

Her eyes hold pools where fairies play,

Her smile a flash that lights the day.

In her heart the angels sing,

In her age, eternal spring.