My grandmother would visit once or twice a year. I enjoyed her visits for many reasons, but particularly because I got to stay up late. Whether the visit was summer or Christmas time, bed-time was a thing of myth and late night talks were the norm. She would tell stories and then listen to my stories. She would ask me deep, weighty questions and tell silly jokes.
She told me she used to like to pick on the neighborhood kids. She grew Chinese hot peppers, then she would bet the neighborhood boys a nickel that they could not eat a whole one. As the boy's head would figuratively burst in to flame, she would chuckle. To my knowledge, she never lost a nickel.
Flirtation
by Beverly Sims Moore
The wind whistled at a cloud passing by
Gently floating onward into the sky
The Moonbeams danced rapturously in a ray of light
And shining stars twinkled in secret delight
At this gay escapade of our friends by the night
As lady dawn comes into view
Fresh with the kiss of morning dew
The loveliness of the night
Slowly changed into day
And the sun laughed as it came out to play
