Waffle

She's tiny as a gnome,

and her ears point out

like wands attached to her head.

She bobbles around

the little golden bunglow,

and cooks like a

chef in her miniature dollhouse.

Her hair is light like the sun ,

and is short as a spiky pixie.

Her body is covered in a

ballet slipper pink polo shirt,

beige chino shorts ,

and coconut white laced sneakers.

The floral aroma of

ylang ylang air tickles

my nostrils, as it travels to and from

her ivory painted living room.

Once I pass by her,

I collapse onto the leather mahogany couch,

drunk and stoned on sugar.

Her sweetness is contagious ,

and roams around like fairy dust.

It's like living in a fairy tale world,

with the legendary Grandma Waffle.

Thank you for taking the time to read my poem about my grandmother. The term "Waffle" is not just a metaphor I use to describe her sweetness and personality, but also a nickname that I've had for her since I was a child. If you enjoyed reading this cute and entertaining poem, please give it a ❤️, share it with others and please don't hesitate to send me a tip. Subscribe to me and view my public profile for more stories, poems and articles on a variety of splendid topics to keep you engaged! Follow and connect with me on Instagram and have a great rest of the week!

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This poem can also be found on AllPoetry!