My Gran is definitely not a man,
but the most feminine of women,
a personification of the Mother,
a breathing testament to love.
A selfless love for all living things,
whether teeny-tiny or quite large.
The champion of the underdog
and companion to an ubercat,
the tenderest of merry witches,
complete with hat and broom.
Bound to her handsome groom
by a love that conquers all.
Today it be thirty-one winters,
let us pray for that many more!
A shining beacon of bonded trust
for the rest of us to only dream of.
All hail to the witch of West-Virginia
and her fine specimen of a man!