The soft breeze played across the brow of Amanda young and fair –
She dreamed a dream of her life to come and the joys of life she’d share.
The years went by and with marriage, came a family of her own –
To this world she gave three daughters and two sons,
Her heart has known the sadness of losing her first mate –
But she had the courage to carry on with her unfaltering faith.
Her family raised to grown-ups have all made homes of their own.
Her descendants now are many – thirty is the sum.
Amanda, she is old now – the dark tendrils, they are grey.
But those playful Ozark breezes find her heart and smile still young and gay,
Her footsteps are not so springy as they were in yesteryear –
But her voice is still happily singing and to me her tone is so dear.
You see I love Amanda dearly – she’s my grandmother you know –
And I ponder oh, so deeply, when the soft breezes blow –
That breeze that just now brushed my cheek – I wonder – could it be –
That first it kissed my Grandma’s face and then came on to me.
Gaylia Kenslow – Stogsdill
April 23, 1963
Written for her Grandmother Amanda Elizabeth Morris
Copyright Roy Richard