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Sonnet Grandmother Poems | Sonnet Poems About Grandmother

These Sonnet Grandmother poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Grandmother. These are the best examples of Sonnet Grandmother poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Famous Last Line

 
Original poem - For Grandma You died grandma and my heart was broken, At your funeral I stood there trembling; And in the name of love words were spoken, I needed to speak words without weeping. Me, standing up front holding my papers, There was a soft breeze caressing my hair; I looked at your coffin and the flowers, Oh, how I wished this was just a nightmare. I started to speak in such a sad voice, And then, I felt your great strength within me; I spoke of your life so all could rejoice, So filled with your love that I spoke so free. Then, I felt the papers go fluttering, And in the name of love, I was speaking. ___________________________ New poem - Always For Grandma And in the name of love, I was speaking, As they put your coffin into the ground; I looked calm but inside I was screaming, Staying, until birds were the only sound. Then, I went to the quiet of your home, Wandering, I touched all your precious things; And even to the attic, I went to roam, Oh, grandma, your strength gave my poems wings. It was you who gave me my first journal, And you said, write it, write down all the pain; My love for you grandma, is eternal, And at last I wept, and outside was rain. I lingered there for hours with memories, Within me grandma, safe are your stories. ______________________ February 28, 2016 English Sonnet For the contest, Famous Last Line sponsor, Laura Loo First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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For Grandma

 
You died Grandma and my heart was broken, At your funeral I stood there trembling; And in the name of love words were spoken, I needed to speak words without weeping. Me, standing up front holding my papers, There was a soft breeze caressing my hair; I looked at your coffin and the flowers, Oh, how I wished this was just a nightmare. I started to speak in such a sad voice, And then, I felt your great strength within me; I spoke of your life so all could rejoice, So, filled with your love that I spoke, so free. Then, I felt the papers go fluttering; And in the name of love, I was speaking. ____________________________ October 24, 2015 English Sonnet For the contest, In The Name Of Love Sponsor, Shadow Hamilton First Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

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A granny I might be

A granny I might be

A granny I might be
But I can always see
My hair is growing grey
My shape is quite okay

I still love my fashion
I guess it’s still my passion
I always look quite smart and dressy
And very rarely I look messy.

I’m older, but I'm still a lassie
Sometimes me, I do look classy
I would not change a single day
Not ever, not in any way.

How the years they will turn out
Well who knows, I’ll wait that out.

Vera Duggan 13 September 2014

Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2014

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A Grandmother's Prayer

           A GRANDMOTHER'S PRAYER
I'll pray you strength, to face each coming day
when things aren't going as right as they could,
to tear down walls, when walls get in the way
of knowing life is going as it should;

I'll pray you light, so your dear heart can see
all through your life, your journey's not alone,
and so the night's not dark as it could be
in troubled times, as every life has known;

I'll pray you love, so love will take your hand,
so you can feel love is the plan for you,
and when it's done, your heart will understand
just what it means to love one, as I do.

I'll pray you have the wisdom God can give
and all His love, as long as you shall live.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

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Lost time

I was just a child of four with not much to say
But I enjoyed the times I went next door to stay
You were so sick in bed and didn't feel quite well
But you were strong and played with me so I could never tell

You body was full of cancer you were very ill
But whenever I saw you, you'd smile and I'd sit still
I'd climb next to you on your bed, I wouldn't wiggle
I saw the sparkle in your eyes and sometimes we would giggle

I'd love to sit and dress up in your necklaces and hats
Pretend I was a princess while you would just lay back
I was too young to know how sick you really were
You never ever let on, you let me play, a lot was just a blur

As I grew I was told you loved the time we shared
I wish that you were never sick and knew how much I cared.

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013

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To hear you again

Set child, listen to your elder's story                                                                          often as you can for we are but men                                                                               A time to live a time to die sorely                                                                                   in life to always do good, my friend:                                                                      Written books are ink and pen, by a hand                                                                       So harken more to do the good, when told                                                                 Living letters never to hold again                                                                                   is far better to hear a voice of old:                                                                                for prose can write anything to get their way                                                                  living histories of the feelings told                                                                                     are fading, grows from youth to old but stay;                                                                  before you pass a place you can not go                                                                          To heed my grandmother's words, I said no                                                                      always to do good I fail but I know

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014

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Oh mum don't kill me

oh mum, don't kill me if you can't afford dowry.
oh mum,don't kill me if you want a boy to birth,
oh mum, throw me alive to live on this earth,
oh mum, don't dig a hole to hide me as indian myth;
oh mum, just educate me then never feel sorry.
i shall serve you as a servant don't feel pain my living,
please ask my brother if he can protect me if dare having.
I can walk on thorns to keep you happy don't cage my 
worry,
why is Indian culture don't believe that I am also human?
why is security matter for me as a man is nudity fan?
don't afraid from gangs they are coward can't face a girl,
they can't love to daughter and sisters, looking beauty 
pearl,
they kill girls, demanding dowry, live in a cultural 
whoolpearl,
when women 'll be free in india that's facing degrading 
curl.

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana | Year Posted 2013

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The Train That Took Them Home

Written by:  D. Collins 12/19/14

Being that it is now Christmas time.
Two influential people come to mind.
Although, they’re not here, I won't shed tears.
The world hasn’t a clue of what they did over the years.

From their stem you get a person like me.
Born to help others, but not instinctively.
I went through training on being good to the core.
Because, the way I was, caused many to quit before.

My Grandmother and her son never gave up on me.
Whatever they were seeing, I just could not see.
Their repeated repetition and expression of love.
Finally seeped in , and eventually woke me up.

So, like them, I pass along what I have learned.
Hoping to get through, before a life gets burned.
By putting in work, I hope that when I am gone.
I’ll be on that train that took them home.

Copyright © Darrell Collins | Year Posted 2014

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Old Stories and Jewelry

 
I recall when I was a little girl, and my grandma would tell me old stories; her voice made my imagination swirl, I often wrote them in my diaries. She was our family storyteller, and now it is me who tells of the past; those old stories could be a bestseller, that and her jewelry- to me has passed. I have no daughter but I have a niece, quiet to my old stories she listens; and it is her, that I give the odd piece, jewelry although old- bright it glistens. A new storyteller when I have died, and she wears that jewelry with great pride. ___________________________________ September 12, 2016 Sonnet Contest Second Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016

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Remembering joy

The smell of your perfume hangs in the air,
My heart is breaking as you are not there.
Sadly I wipe away a falling tear.
As never again your voice will i hear.

your language colourful but mostly blue!
I just loved the crazy things you'd do.
The times we spent together always fun,
You where my idol and second to none.

But sadly one day it was time to leave,
Your broken family where left to grieve.
From heaven above you received the call,
I always thought you would out live us all.

goodbye to you I never got to say,
And I'll be missing you gran, everyday.

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Inspired by my grandmother Mrs Joy Barry gone but never forgotten 1925-2015 X
                 





Copyright © linda williams | Year Posted 2016