Grandma was a very good old lady...
A radiant old Granny,
She is Wura, a precious sight to behold,
What do you expect? Her name means Gold.
You see her wrinkles, but I see stories written in fine lines,
Each line an epoch of her graceful days,
When I look into her eyes, I see eyes that have withstood pain,
They have witnessed both good and bad days,
Yet, they shimmer with light and shine so bright.
You see wobbly legs, but I see legs that have walked cruel paths,
Paths that could render one crippled,
Yet, they stood the test of time,
And even as wobbly as they are, they dance better than me, who is still in my prime.
Her hair, her almost bald head,
While I dread the touch of comb on my own hair,
She finds joy and admires herself,
Anytime I plait the few strands she has left.
When you see Wuraola,
Tell her, I called her beautiful inside and out,
Tell her, her melodious voice means everything to me,
Tell her, her dance steps are etched in my memories,
Tell her, I remember her favourite hymn,
Tell her, she is a very good old lady.
