Grandma

My Momma's always cried, when she looks into a new born's eyes.. But, I like Grandma's side.. Where you just look into the skies.. To find that door that opens wide.. To where over rainbows and golden fields, we can fly.. And up that apple tree we can climb.. Time, we can steal.. Do a cartwheel.. She said, years and time, and whats on the outside.. Doesn't matter.. Age can only make you feel sadder, but appreciation, makes you gladder.. Just close your eyes, and try.. To always live.. All that you survive, as a child from your heart inside.. Always take those dreams.. Those reigns, hold tight..and ride..