Short Grandmothers Poems
Short Grandmothers Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Grandmothers by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Grandmothers by length and keyword.
meadow larks melodic songs
uplift the most hardened hearts
reminding us of grandmothers
hollyhocks, and bleeding hearts
an innocent and softer time.
Wildlife 34
A talented musical linnet,
Played tunes on her grandmothers spinet,
But once, at a loss,
She said "Who gives a toss!"
"It's fun playing music, Well i'nnit?"
My Great Grandmothers Funeral in England
Her name: Martha Franklin
I am half and half
Half of my roots come from England
The other half American
Blending them together I am Eng-Glow-Amer
Crackers in sky form sparkles, loud
As firework forms a fog of smoke
Houses gleam, with ribbons of light
Grandmothers chant prayers in temples
Endless firecrackers outside, even after midnight
An old fountain pen; restored to its former glory.
Parchment awaits its clothing of poetry; my grandmothers words appear; not mine.
Another ancestral visit; she’s tweaking me.
Bohemian women have creative, loving, whimsical ways
Floating with delight and joy through most of their days
Most do not take seriously injuries or meannesses of others
These women make the utmost best moms and grandmothers
I run in the park but time seems like I'm trapped in the
Old grnd father clock in my grandmothers house.
Tick Tick Tick BOOM !
It seems like love can't find it's way to my heart
But this emptyness is as slow as I can see.
Tick Tick Tick BOOM !
Form:
Dear God
as i kneel hear and pray
help me lead them in a way
though there expectations may fall
let there hearts stand tall
for that is their connection
to go in the right direction
though the path may seem troubled
they will always find their way
Amen
The sweetest things I've ever known
Is both of my grandmothers' love
I'm still their baby though I'm grown
To hear their voice would be enough
To count the times I think of you
Would be seventy times seven
When it is my dream come true
I'm seeing you both in Heaven
He is seventeen
Wears his hair long, in a ponytail, it does not look clean.
There are piercings in his lip and his ears.
He wears a spider tattoo on his forehead.
His mother is horrified.
His father is having a fit.
Both grandmothers laugh at them.
Loving their grandson no matter how he looks.
hllbilly hoe down
hard piece of straw in each mouth
bibbed overall dance
banjos and fiddles
potluck of fancy desserts
arkansas ham hocks
hound dogs on the porch
homemade corn liquor from gramps
square dancing parents
loud bluegrass music
pink taffy pull for the kids
toothless grandmothers
The yarn slips through fingers
gracefully, gratefully,
unformed realities arrive
and meld with each twist.
Minds remember hearts
grandmothers teach grand children
life from the start.
Crochet hooks and yarn
make squares , building blocks
for blankets and pot holder.
Building blocks of life.
eap-GRANDMOTHERS
A grandmother loves grandsons:
in the womb, at childbirth
and the times sad or with mirth
by the soul without girth
in the love, with no dearth
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 12, 2010
Inspired by Poetry Soup member contest: RHYME TIME
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Paint your finger and toe nails.
So pretty, it makes you feel.
So completely womanized. Working
Or playing, saying I'm not lurking
In the world of being plain Jane.
Feeling good about myself it makes,
Just as it does, putting on my face.
Grandmothers did just this before me.
Pretty women, themselves being free.
On this beautiful Sunday morning
To all the mothers and grandmothers
From each and every land
Mothers are all made special
In each and every way
So I'm sending you a teddy bear
And A boutique of roses
On this special mothers day
From Me & My Family
Wishing You A Very Special
Mothers day
On this Sunday Morning
Remember the recipes you gave to me?
Of dreams and hopes and reveries?
Of April orchards by the sea?
Red apples under the harvest moon
June bugs on petals of sunflower sisters
Bending together in the whispering breeze
leafy arms,prickly kisses
Lady bugs flying home?
I need you more than ever
don't lay your hands down now
Hold them out to me.
Form:
I have seen the government promise
I have seen babies raped
I have seen headless men lying on the road
I have seen mothers battered for daughter's pregnancy
I have seen old men dead on the road from hunger
I have seen grandmothers dead in a flooded house
I have seen mothers hacked by machetes by sons
I have seen and lost hope in people
I have seen life
I’m not a whole person, I don’t think I ever was
I’m a master at losing;
Cause I’ve never won
Robbed of a mother, and a father imprisoned
A grandfather angry, at any chance given -
With few that loved me, or who showed it I guess
There was only one woman, who strayed from the rest
Offering me love, a grandmothers touch
My personal savior;
The end of a bet
the back of my hands are spotted
with brownish red splotches and dashes
they are as wrinkly as a Chinese dog
blue veins are popping up in ugliness
so this is why old women wear gloves!
the same reason they wear scarves around their turkey necks
I was never prepared to get this old
did not realize it was a possibility
until I began wearing my grandmother’s hands
Awakening from "Slavery in Egypt"
I head downstairs to check my e - mail
and eat a free breakfast
My stomach satisfied
I pick up a pen and write an ode
Poetry grows on the fabled Lower East Side
Where my grandparents came
when they fled attacking Cossacks
and took flight to the USA
and one of my grandmothers
was in the Emma Lazarus club
Take that, Trump!
A Grandmothers love is hard
To explain
It is made up of joy sacrifice
And pain
A Grandmothers love is patient
And forgiving
And each moment with her
Makes life worth living
A Grandmothers love turns a
House into a home
And her beauty shines like a
Precious stone
A Grandmothers love will
Always touch your soul
A love so gentle Gods gift
To behold
I’m not a whole person, I don’t think I ever was
I’m a master at losing;
Cause I’ve never won
Robbed of a mother, and a father imprisoned
A grandfather angry, at any chance given -
With few who loved me, or who showed it I guess
There was only one woman, who strayed from the rest
Offering me love, a grandmothers touch
My personal savior;
The end of a bet
ABANDON all senses to catch the dancing fire of indescribable
emotions trapped deeply within the Soul of No Mouth --
tell the birthing stars our carbon body is as old as their grandfathers and
grandmothers but our love and great Tiny minds grapple with
inconceivable thoughts but mostly of grand words structured tightly around
the Spirit of the Poet!
:: 02.29.2020 ::
The drooly ghouly ghoul looked frightening.
Some felt he was worse than cow pie lightning.
I had met him as a tiny little scrapper,
When he had politely asked to use our crapper.
So even though he scared the orange juice out of others,
He left me completely alone, also my grandmothers.
Luckily for me, neither of these old gals could see well.
So they did not know he was from the bowels of hell.
The beat of the jembe, a pulse of unity between embodiment and self.
The seeds of Ubuntu, our grandmothers sowed in murmured displays.
The grunt of a Kudu, an imprinted bellow of pride in the herd.
To Witness Uhuru, if conscious of self a prophecy dwells.
The Black Conscious Gurus, a pride in depression neglecting oppression.
The Black Conscious movement the beautiful course depicting progression!