Traveling Boy’s Memory Lane Invites all writers to share their stories to the world. As long as websites in the internet are accessible, these stories will be your footprint of your life adventures. They may be happy, sad, playful, religious, political, narrative, poetic, etc. The more creative and the more honest, the better. Years … centuries from now, some alien ship will find this website and will wonder what mankind was all about. Your articles will answer a lot of their questions.
by guest authors: Lois McKinney & Granddaughter Kassie Hill
She read me stories every night;
We said our prayers and she turned out the light.
When I was a child, I heard many things:
The sound of the flapping of a fairy’s wings;
The sound of laughter from a baby’s delight;
The sound of mockingbirds warbling at night.
But now that I’m grown, no sound can compare
To the creaking sound of that old rockin’ chair.
Rock me, Granny
Rock, rock, rock
Rock me, Granny
Please don’t stop
Rock me, Granny
With a rockin’ beat
Rock me, Granny
Rock me to sleep
I sat on her lap as she held me tight
When Granny rocked me to sleep at night.
Rock, rock, rock
Rockin’ Granny
Rock, rock, rock
Rockin’ Granny
Rock, rock, rock
Rockin’ Granny
Rock me, Granny
Rock me to sleep
When I grew old, I had my own grandkids.
I’d rock them and see their drooping eyelids.
I’d tell each one “The sandman’s coming, my dear;
Just close your eyes and he’ll soon be here.”
And, sure enough, the sandman came,
And when he got here, he’d call me by name:
Hey, Rockin’ Granny
Rock, rock, rock
Hey, Rockin’ Granny,
Please don’t stop
Rockin’ Granny
With a rockin’ beat
Rockin’ Granny,
Rock them to sleep
