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Ballad Grandfather Poems | Ballad Poems About Grandfather

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

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Details | Ballad | |

The Ones I Have Lost

As I go through my day, they are by my side, 
Following me, watching me and also being my guide. 

These are the angels of my loved ones that passed, 
When I know their near me,  I want this feeling to last. 

I never had much family, separated by distance, 
Sometimes I felt like my world was of non-existence. 

The few I loved so much and held so dear, 
My grandfather, grandmother and father are no longer here.

But when I smell my dads cologne or hear grandmas voice in my ears, 
I hold in my heart their near me and it rids me of fears. 

I certainly must say there is not a day that goes by, 
That I do not think of them and softly cry. 

I always pray that they will visit me while I sleep, 
Dreaming of them is a wonderful feeling that goes so deep. 

I'll miss you everyday until I am no longer on earth,
When I see you all again, it will be like a rebirth.

















Copyright © Debra Baviello

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Large Hands

At six foot four, and an eighth of a ton, A gentle giant of a man, he was; Father to three, and himself a fine son, Devoted husband to Jean, without pause. Phone man, painter, in ocean liners he cruised, Accompanied by family and friends; Sweet song in his heart, but never the blues, Wisdom and patience, in life his clear lens. He loved a recipe, and showing concern, With actions, like always asking about you; His life well balanced, his legacy earned, Sharing his Jesus—the Gospel's Good News! Taking time for grandkids, he humbly shared, Both time and his money, an open book; Bouncing upon knees, for great grands he cared, Teaching scriptures, over breakfast he’d cooked. Eighty-two years was his Lord’s master plan, Fifty-eight to a soulmate, solemnly wed; What mattered most, to this giver of men, Was baking and breaking, life’s finest bread. A Soldier whose honor, served us all well, Humbly he loved, these United States; His strong Christian faith, now clear as a bell, His given name, you ask? Twas—Walter Yates! (Rest in Peace Dear Friend. We miss you, sir!)

Copyright © Michael Wegman

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A Tear Of Mine

LAST TEAR OF MINE
MY LIFE, WHOLE WAS IN FULL SWING
WITH ADVENTURE AND FULL BING
ALL  ALONG WITH MY FAMILLE AND MY KINS.
BUT THE DAY OF THE DARKNESS STOOD FROM NOW WHERE,
WHEN SOMEONE FROM MY FAMILY UNSTOOD  THERE.
THEN SOMEONE SAID ,IT WAS ALL MIGHTY’S WILL
THE OTHER SAID IT WAS HIS TIME TO BECOME AN ANGEL
WAS GOD HAVING SCARCITY OF ANGELS ??? SAYS I
A BIG NO , WAS JUST A SIMPLE  REPLY .
IT LEAD TO ME UTTER CURIOSITY,
WITH NO PATH I COULD SEE,
BUT AS THE DAYS PASSED AWAY
SECRET OF BECOMING AN ANGEL REVEALED TO ME,
WHEN I BECOME A STUDENT, OF NATURE’S CYCLE
NO ONE GOES TO GOD BUT REMAINS WITH HIS FAMILY  FOREVER ,
WHEN DECAYED GOES TO SOIL WHERE AFTER SOMETIME BECOMES A FUEL USED BY US ,
THIS WAY NATURE HELPS US TO REGAIN WHAT WE HAVE LOST

Copyright © diya gupta

Details | Ballad | |

Marjorie Isabella

In the Southwest of Scotland
Marin county Argyle-shire
Extends a narrow mass of land
Known only as Kintyre

A certain mull on which is known
What sea the eye adore
As glitter to a rolling mist
As waves align the shore

Not far from there in Campbeltown
Five miles or maybe more
Sat Duncan Blaine McGeachy
His hat upon the door

Young daughter Isabella 
Bound for distant farms
Alas to Rocky Mountain House
Clutches in her arms

Where Peter Paul of Eckville
Did spy the raving lass
More fair than any local
And quite a lovely yass

Peter Paul and Isabella
Rose the Adams pack
Jack Loreen and Mary 
James Peter at the back

I remember James Peter
Marge would say J. P.
And when she called him Jimmy Joe
He’d hide behind a tree

Old Jimmy Joe he got to know
How grievous love could be
He stood inside a few short days
More tall than any tree

His mother Isabella 
His darling Marjorie
Would both depart on one foul whisk
The maker for to see

Of Jim and Marge had come a brood
As fine a brood could be
Of Randy Eddy and Janelle
And my sweet Laura Lee 

Copyright © Mike Martin