Grandparents Poems | Examples of Grandparents Poetry

draconian dad stubbornly immovable until grandbaby grandbaby request cant be denied by papa amazed baby dad...

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Swear words, public nudity Teen-aged crime and murder sprees Abortion-on-demand, LGTQB ~ No place left for granny or me ...

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Aarohi, it took me so long to meet the tiger inside me. It took me so long to let the sparrow inside me go. Now that I can sing out like a thunderstorm, I hope that you can hear the determination you come from; I hope you know that you are not a limitation. You are the fearless agent prowling in the...

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A good man is hard to find, just as my Nana always said. That day, I witnessed tears in her eyes as she firmly stuffed the monthly tithe into the envelope and headed to church that Sunday morning. Earlier, she had been rightfully screaming at my granddad for hours. She was furious with the old...

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What hurts more than the fact I didn’t get to say goodbye Is the fact They’ll never see what I become....

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Seventeen years of memories, Memories we created, Forever to be won, Your absence leaves a gaping hole, A missing piece that can never be whole. In silence, I hear your voice, A treasure of stories,a heartfelt choice, Lessons learnt and memories to spare, You'd tell me your twists and turns, That I'd listen wide-eyed, With a heart that's on fire, I'll carry your love & legacy, And...

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they sit by windows streaked with time watching days dissolve to gray their voices, once a steady chime, now whispers none will hear or stay names they spoke with love and pride have softened into air and dust letters sent, unanswered, dried memories fading, left to rust the hallway hums with hollow sound a clock that ticks but never calls footsteps pass, but none are...

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She cried out for attention—was it really a game? Or was it the only way they’d remember her name? Her voice, an echo, lost in the night, Drowned by indifference, swallowed by spite. Her grandfather’s eyes, heavy with shame, Saw only a liar—never the pain. She was a burden, a whispered regret, A shadow of sorrow he’d rather forget. Lonely, broken, battered, and...

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I was worried they’d paint the house brown Or red or green or blue. I couldn’t even imagine They’d turn it into something new Now they’re ripping up the floorboards Like your absence tore my heart. It’s as though every nail they place Tears us further apart. 300 miles plus an extra six feet, 3.5 hours turned into four. But we never make...

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If you had never heard the word beautiful, Would you know what it means? Could you grasp it in the curve of a smile, In the hush of a sunset bleeding into the sea? If no one told you a painting was art, Would the colors still stir your soul?...

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Mince Pies for sharing, I’m sure you’ll agree Evergreen festive lights are a-glowing Repeats aplenty, our Christmas TV Recycling bins are all overflowing Your decorations will brighten the door Come on let’s celebrate, we’ll both say cheers Have one more bottle? Go on if you’re sure Reflective and maudlin’, that’s me drinking beers Ikea candles, will lighten the way Silent Night, Christmas Eve, here...

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As we wait for the day To start over anew We watch the sunrise Dry the morning dew. You have a paper, And I have a bowl This drink has stained everything, Even seeped to our souls. When we were younger We would dance until dawn. Now the thought only Makes both of us yawn. Though we have been tested, By my side there was you. Still, life holds...

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Am I in that stage of Grief where I’m just angry? Like how dare you leave me? You were the glue. I shed a tear or two. Then aggression enters and it feels like a big f you I need you. But you had better things to do How is it? The other realm? I just wish I could see you again Take...

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Your shoes by the door, worn soles tracing paths you used to walk - each scuff a story, each crease a memory, quiet but heavy. They sit there, still laced with quiet defiance, a reminder of mornings you rushed, of late nights spent at your desk - always just a little more to do. The scent of your aftershave lingers in the hallway, waiting for you to step...

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Only three of us now who knew both sets of our grandparents. The three of us, 96, 94 and 88, how much time have we left? There are sepia photos from the old, first Brownie cameras, a few portraits of some from a bit later, all still, silent, as they were not in life. Being the oldest, I recall two great- grandmothers, albeit vaguely, one...

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