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Nature Grandfather Poems | Nature Poems About Grandfather

These Nature Grandfather poems are examples of Nature poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Nature Grandfather poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Cutting Cheese 2

Now that I'm retired
And know I can't be fired
I'll do anything I damn well please
And I don't give a hoot
Who hears me when I toot
For I have grown acustomed to the cheese
Old women and old men
As they grow nearer their end
Really just don't care what people think
Say and do what's on their mind
For as they age they find
They kinda like to raise a little stink


Details | Rhyme | |

Tale of an Old Crow

I was hiking in the hills, and I was talking to the air when a fork in the path, took me first here,... and then, there Prickly thickets, were aflame with brilliant crimson, entrapping my feet, with a pin-cushion prison The foxgloves too, grew in mass profusion My head in a state of blind confusion Granite rocks were wearing saffron, golden Clouds up above, blending, enfolding The hills were hidden in the cloudy mist The mountains were turning deep amethyst Dilemma lay ahead in my all my decisions I stumbled along, without much precision Grass bending low, between the boulders Gulls screamed higher, wind getting colder I would forge on ahead, over ditches and water, as the ebb of the day, was getting darker and darker There was a fork, in the trail near a sage scrub tree where the needles on the ground, wore a carpet lined with weeds, The pine was tethered in its place by the rust-red sky, Brown and dead at the top, where a crow was sitting by ~ On long ago nights, when we sat by the lamp I remembered one tale, that had come from my Gramps The fastest way home was......as the crow flies So I waited, awhile, .......He led me home, by and by
__________________________________________________________ For The Rhyme Contest: Sponsored by Juli Michelle 10/5/13


Details | I do not know? | |

While wandering with my grandfather

A red rose in a white rose’s tree,
How unique could this be,
For the first time I see,
A red rose in a white rose’s tree
 
For how long will the red rose last?
Did it blossom in the past?
I wish it wouldn’t wither fast,
For how long the red rose will last
 
Should I pick the red rose for her?
Maybe this rose lasts forever,
Will it be missed by her forger?
Should I pick the red rose for her?
 
Perhaps the red rose must stay.
I am glad I saw it today,
she may bloom next May,
Perhaps the red rose must stay
 
A red rose in a white rose’s tree,
Can be so rare, but for me
There is more beauty and glee:
A red rose in a white rose’s tree
 
The poet was walking with his grandfather when he saw two rose’s trees, with entangled branches; therefore a red rose seemed to flourish in a white rose’s tree. Then those jiggling lines were naturally suggested. After sitting in the silent and peaceful inside of a mosque, with paper and pen, he wrote verses which mixed the red rose with the rare muse by him loved.