Grandma's Cookies

I could hear the timer going off as I walked through her side door,

The warmth and sweet smell of chocolate permeated towards me,

A comfort in the small things,

Standing over the oven was my grandma over seeing,

The cookies she placed there, knowing I was coming,

She always has told me a hot cookie is the best kind,

As she handed me a plate that was all mine,

The soft, melting chocolate crumbling in my mouth,

The taste of growing up with her, I can taste it even now,

I would sit down in grandpas big corner chair,

With a plate and a hand full of cards with my grandma right there,

I would break off another bite with my touch,

Feeling the moisture in the recipe, always made with love,

I would lick my fingers from the melted chocolate that remains,

She would hand me a napkin and tell me to pick the game,

We would sit there peacefully as she listened to my life,

Playing gin rummy and eating grandma's cookies always hit just right.