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Elegy Grandfather Poems | Elegy Poems About Grandfather

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

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Details | Elegy | |

Dear Grandpa

The leaves have turned brown and crisp
And I've remembered 
How much you've been missed
On a day like today 

It's the days when I feel down
And I'm sad
That you're not around 
Desperately in need of a grandpa's embrace

You were like my best friend 
And I'm yearning 
For the hours we'd laugh on end.
Now I'm doing quite the opposite 

The memories harvest in my mind
As I bow to your grave 
With flowers of all kinds
Commemorating the part you played
In shaping the person I am today. 

Yours sincerely, 
A granddaughter that misses you dearly. 

Copyright © Emmy Weatherill

Details | Elegy | |

For my grandfather

For my grandfather.

I can see you sometimes
though you are not here

I see your smile
that day when I was nine
and you told a dirty 
joke to a passing stranger
while we went for a walk.

I did not understand
the joke
but you smiled
and the stranger laughed
so I laughed too
and I have never forgotten
that smile

Some days I wish
I could see it
I mean really see it
not that my minds eye
doesn't do a good job

I just know that if I could
see it
really see it
that means I could 
reach my arms around you
and feel your stubble against my cheek

It would be a long hug
and there would be tears
and then I am sure you would quickly
turn them to laughter 

but I cannot wrap my arms around you
I cannot feel your stubble against my cheek
all I can do is remember

remember your smile
remember your jokes
remember you in your old jeans and older t-shirt
swinging on the back swing
or dozing in the living room with your head back
and mouth open

Sometimes I look at your chair
at the dinner table
and imagine you in it
and you look back at me
with that look you always had
that said I love you
I care about you
I am proud of you
and then you fade
and someone else
here with us in this life
takes your place

can anyone take your place?
can anyone fill your old black loafers?
I suppose not
but they can at least sit in your chair


we can all remember

Copyright © Brady Perkins

Details | Elegy | |


My Grandfather High-backed chair facing the corner, Window over books so cherished Loved. Like the greatest of scholars, but still humble He was a trove of stories Air of silence on a place once full Of stories from a time past, A time of honor and courage and duty Of country and spirit; fighting an enemy Made from indescribable evil. Tales of valor, sand, and bullets Lions and machine guns, young men in battle Fighting for their lives. Knowing the enemy was like a jackal Cruel and twisted, an army of evil He witnessed it all First hand, in the heat of the day And cold of night. Tales passed on, spoken In a way that conveyed such knowledge That one was to sit in amazement, and hear it Firsthand from the chair facing the corner. Like a throne of deep thought. The day he left this world, I wept. Seeing him not but a day before, It was harder than I could have imagined. The pain is real, but so were the memories And so the legacy of the veteran lives on. The chair sat vacant, but I felt him there. The books on the shelf, the other treasures Left behind held him here on earth While the memories anchored him in our hearts. The man in the chair shall never be forgotten And the stories shall pass far into the generations.

Copyright © john locke

Details | Elegy | |

REUBEN COBB (my grandfather)

Daughter disconnected from her father.
It took years for you two to reconnect.
I had only one chance to talk to you.
The cancer took you, before we could meet.

Copyright © dakarai cobb

Details | Elegy | |

The Grandfather You'll Never Know

I remember how I cried
The day my father died.
The doctor laid the blame
When he said that cancer came:
Lymph nodes, lungs,
Philosophy of Carl Jung,
Words of explanation
For everything, no blame,
Too late for shame.

The final service was long.
I tried to be strong.
But the stench of red carnations
Can still fill my imagination,
People’s faces,
Words of the Lord’s graces.
Planted in a peaceful lawn,
For the shell of this world is gone,
Yoked into heavenly bliss.
But, when I think of him
There's so much we missed.

I remember how I’ve sighed,
Thinking of my dad with pride.
I’d sit on his knee
My ear to his chest,listening to him hum,
And he’d give me his pennies for free.
He would mow, I’d sweep,
Then we’d have a snow cone treat.
Poles, bait bucket, tackle box,
Days we spent fishing from piers and docks.

Hair black like Elvis’,
Ears and features like Clark Gable’s,
Loud animated stories
Of his oil company job,
At the dinner table.
Fedora, big pleated trousers,
A pocket watch on a chain,
When I close my eyes
I can see him again.

I look in the mirror and can see his eyes,
Staring back at me in an eternal guise.
He didn’t live on to see me grown, 
Missed out conversation on the problems I’ve known.
But his gifts of life,
And his gifts of earthly love
Still ground me on earth,
Angelically guarding and guiding
Like the finest made glove
Existing throughout our human family's
Journey of love.

Copyright © Patrice Lauren