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Grandfather Free Verse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Grandfather

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

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Details | Free verse |

GRANDPA

*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*

Hi grandpa it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass
Do you remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, she doesn't want you to cry.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Do you remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed brushing my hair with her hands
Love the way she rocked me to sleep every night until I grew. 

Hello grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Do you remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina dance
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma lived in
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandmothers favorite scarf.

Hello Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Do you like the way she looked in that pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
I like the walking stick she handcrafted, the day your needed support
It kept you in balance every time we took long hikes in the woods.

Hello grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see grandma
Please tell her hi, and I know you will be there the day I die
Bye, grandpa
Give grandma a kiss, and tell her I miss her

By; PD


Details | Free verse |

A Sepia Recollection



Sitting here, on these old porch steps, that I have always known
A weathered stoop, with gray-painted floorboards
The creaks and groans, the flaws and chips, so familiar to my hand 

I've come to some conclusion,
and I'm surprised to understand, 
how well I know each board, each slat,
the shape, the size, the warps, the cracks 

each rusty nail, ....
but not the facts of you.  

Oh yes, ........I've seen a glimpse or two, 
in photographs, I have a few...

I see a robust man, in yellowed hues,  of vintage stock...
There's a house, a barn, where land is strewn with stones to move. 
You stand behind a horse and plow, in coveralls,... a mustache too . 

I do recall, so vaguely gray,  as gray as slats beneath my hand...
a jolly man, your wrinkled face, 
with a smile, a laugh, a loving way
 
A dream I have, or is it real?  
Is that me when I was two?  Sitting here, beside you then?
Or is it just my wish to know... more than just a trace of you?

I never knew the man you were, your hopes your dreams...  
the thousand schemes that brought you to these rocky slopes 
so far from where your hopes began
Where those steep cliffs rose and the seas were blue.  

Here, I look beyond these furrowed rows,...
where grasses grow in amber waves
and I ponder how it came to be....
that I am me,.... 
   who came from you;        

                a man I never knew. 

_____________________________________________________________

(To watch the youtube video recitation:)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hF4GCLqf9_o


Details | Free verse |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Free verse |

The Pilgrimage

They fought the tide to own this land
A fight I did not understand
They fought the plow, they fought the drought, they fought the debt
But yet,…by God,……they owned the pride

In retrospect, I'm still ashamed
It was, my flippant pilgrimage
I had come a stranger to this place
About to step upon the moon,
A cratered space of rocks and sage
Of rolling hills, with no escape

She saw it differently, of course 
Although her body weary, worn
Her eyes were strong, ...she saw a home

Her age was then, what mine is now
It had been her home, and it had been her vow
To come again, just one more time.  

I was thirteen, and dragged along
I overlooked the great attraction
I could not see the satisfaction
I missed the light upon her face

She saw the youth she left behind
Her gray eyes drinking up the sun, 
I saw the dust, I saw the bones, 
Where she saw beauty,  I saw none .....
 
Nothing more than a sea of weeds, the crumbling brick, 
A place to shuffle my restless feet

But stories came, and they sunk in….
And now I view with wiser eyes…
She told me all these things back then…but now, I smile,… remembering.

     They had to fight to own this piece of land
     They fought the plow, they fought the drought, they fought the debt
     And yet,…oh yes,…….they owned the pride


                                                 ~~



Recited on youtube       http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAchI2nu9yY

_______________________________________________________________
For Deb's Contest:....2nd Option..(With age comes wisdom, understanding and
                                                  appreciation. I am never too old to keep learning
                                                  and value those who came before and made me
                                                  who I am.)



______________________________________________________________


Details | Free verse |

Pure Of Heart

Wise Grandfather Shaman, 
I am pure of Heart,
I bathe beneath the Moon, 
and dry beneath the Sun,
I listen to the Wind,
I run with the Deer,
I hunt with the Wolves,
I fish with the Eagles and Hawks,
I ride with the Wild Paints,
And roam with the Buffalo,
I grow with Grandmother Tree,
Ever learning from her Wisdom, 
I am skilled in Warrior Ways,
A strong Hunter, 
A compassionate Listener,
A patient Tracker,
I have gathered with the other women,
Contributing to our tribes growth and strength,
I leave no tracks of moccasins in the soft clay,
My heart is pure,
And I wish to continue my journy,
Wise Grandfather Shaman,
Allow me to enter your lodge,
I will smoke from the sacred pipe,
My heart is pure.


Details | Free verse |

We Made Ice cream

  I remember! 
  Cranking that old wore-out handle on that ice cream maker, until I thought my 
arms were going to fall off.  Having a big smile on my face, as I turned and 
turned, pushed and pulled on that old crank begging my big brother, the whole 
time to “Spell me!” so I could set on an old rag on top of the ice, using my weight 
(as it was) to hold that ice cream maker in place. 
   I remember my grandfather coming out of the house, out on the back porch. To 
make sure my big brother and I was “Doing it right.” as if, there was a wrong way! 
He made sure that we
had plenty of ice, plenty of rock salt. I can still see him sticking his little finger in 
the weep-hole to make sure it didn’t get stopped-up. That was most important to 
him, as he
always got the first bowl. I don’t know why? He clamed, he would get the first 
bowl, to make sure that salt didn’t get into the mix. Funny to me, he never made a 
salty face as he was eating that first bowl.  
   I remember, watching my grandmother making that “mix” she picked the 
freshest eggs, measured just the right amount of vanillin extract, I loved the way 
her kitchen smelled. I watched her chop the bananas peal the peanuts, stir it up 
with the cream and sugar. She hummed “Old Rugged Cross” as she made that 
sweet ice cream mix, it was as if she was having fun; like the turning of the crank 
for us boys, work for sure but still fun!
  I would eat light, as that banana-peanut ice cream cured while we had supper, 
waiting for grandfather to finish his third helping, we had to wait, he always got 
the first bowl, I don’t know why? 
 
 



Details | Free verse |

I wish - poem for my granddaughter

I wish I could look at a flower through your eyes
and discover why you are so fascinated by it.

I wonder why your eyes glisten
when you look at the stars,
and why you smile at the moon.

I wish I could find out what triggers you
to jump and skip, or giggle with glee
and I strain my ears to hear the silent melody
which causes you to break out in song.

I wish I could embrace someone so firmly
as you do when you jump up to greet me.

I wish I were like you when I was a child.


Details | Free verse |

Princesses

Pretty princesses
Dancing all around
Frolicking through fields
Very beautiful
Just like you!


Details | Free verse |

Ordinary Chair

He sits down in an ordinary chair
Painted a powder blue
The rounded back feels familiar
Comfortable
Solid.
Much like his grandpa
Grandpa had sat on this same chair
Bounced him on his knee
Read him stories
It does not seem so very long ago
Time has a way of sneaking up on you
Now he's grandpa
Sitting in his favorite chair
Thinking
This is really quite extrordinary


The Ordinary Contest
Sponsored by: Black Eyed Susan


Details | Free verse |

I just found out - poem for my granddaughter

I just found out that you visited here 
while I was away at work - 
and that you left a few minutes before my arrival!
Ah! Your sweet presence 
would have been such a balm
for my tired and aching body - 
having traveled by bus, and train, another bus, 
and then dragged for a thousand metres
through blustering winds.

And now I must find consolation
in the traces of your absent presence - 
the imprints of your feet on the bathroom tiles, 
and the faint lingering echoes of your laughter,
and the fading silhouette where you sat watching cartoons. 
Although you live in my heart, I still miss you, sweet child!


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