My grandmother lost her glass eye
She sneezed when she breathed in a fly
As her eyeball flew by
She exclaimed my oh my
My glass eye has learned how to fly
To the lake to the lake,
Fish to fry clams to bake.
This has been grandmother's cry
Now on birthdays she brings rye,
If just once she'd bring a cake.
Once was a celeb’s old Granny:
She bragged ‘bout her little sonny.
He asked her to stop:
It’s better to hop,
Than to make yourself a ninny
Opening the nesting doll was an ache
Overturning it and began to shake
Was all full of dirt
Got all over my shirt
It was the urn of grandma, my mistake
Pa could not bend over to the stove like he should
The wood is too heavy for Ma is understood
To ease this plight
And make it right
Mama bent over after Papa got wood!
"How old are you Granny?", her grandson wants to know
Said with a yet to be learned, decorum to show
She said, "Thirty and holding!",
With a smile and not scolding
He asked, "How old would you be then, if you let go?"