Heaven Sent

She’s heaven sent, truly a gift to me.
She’s heaven sent, she’s never worked a day after my mother was born,
always giving a helping hand without showing scorn.
She’s heaven sent, loving, unconditionally… her children, and grand’s in one;
I could very well see, when she tried to do the impossible for me.
She’s heaven sent, for still combing my hair.
She’s heaven sent, even when she tells me to clean over there.
She’s heaven sent, for giving me breakfast every morning,
this lady, my Grandma, is never boring.
She’s heaven sent and truly, I still don’t see,
how I’ll make it when she’s gone because I’m sure heaven sent her for me.

Writing 201 Day 6, Heroine.

Prompt: Hero(ine)
Form: Ballad
Device: Anaphora/Epistrophe