* Bubbe is a Yiddish word for grandmother. When I was seven, my grandmother,who loved to read and to write, gave me the book 101 Famous Poems for my birthday. I have it to this day.
My love of words began my seventh year
My love of words began my seventh year A small green book you pressed into my hand
And though I was too young to understand
I knew that it was something you held dear
Into those magic poems I would peer
The distance between you and me was spanned
Your writer's mark on me you left your brand
And to this day I always keep it near
Because of you a truer voice I found
You taught me how to write from what I live
You taught me to observe the world around
You taught me how to listen for the sound
I read your words wrapped up like gifts to give
Each time I write, to you I will be bound
