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Best Grandson Poems

Below are the all-time best Grandson poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of grandson poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Grandson Poem | |

Poet Destroyer-It will be ok

I know first hand the
pain in your heart,it
will be okay,soon you
can make a fresh start.

Your grandson Beal will
be watching over you,and
he knows everyday how
much you love him to.

Sometimes GOD does things
that we don't understand,
but he created your friends
to lend a helping hand.

Reach out to the people
that are here on the soup,
they help through hard times
and are a wonderful group.

There are to many to name
as this you know,
they will take you by the
hand and won't let go.

It will be okay and
soon you will see,
the new joy's in life
and how happy you'll be.

           You will get through this it just takes a little time.

                                                Love your poet friend,
                                                Colleen Marie Bono
                                                  April 11, 2013

Details | Grandson Poem | |

THE HEIRLOOM

I lay within a drawer so long
Loneliness was my heart's song

My diamonds never saw the light of day
Since granma's death,I'd been that way

Her grandson went a'courting strong
Maybe my exile now,will not last long

He brought home his bride-to-be
Glowing with pride,for his parents ,to see

He slipped me on her left hand,
They planned a wedding,oh so grand

That special day soon came around
A gold band nearby, I suddenly found

For many years we would not part
Such friendship heals the lonely heart

A day then arrived,of which I live in dread
Returned to a drawer,by a bed.


Details | Grandson Poem | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Grandson Poem | |

Following the Dinosaur Trail

babysitting Ricky
he shows me books on T-Rex. . .
ancient history

years later. . . watching
Jurassic Park on TV. . . 
my two kids and I

games played on a screen
my grandson plays the hunter. . . 
I’m the dinosaur

For SKAT's Dinosaurs Haiku Contest

Details | Grandson Poem | |

December Sky

I sit, with deep contentment, by the window 
And watching the young evergreen out-shadowed
The oak tree, where love once etched on it, I sowed 

My time quietly slipped into the picture
Between my only son and his firstborn son
Between the past, the present, and the future

I have the feelings, but no words are spoken
When the words are spoken, my own feelings gone
Hidden for life, in my sagging rocking chair

I felt the late afternoon cold breeze, touching 
White-bearded face, with the autumn scent tingling 
While the golden sun has faded, into gray

I saw the charmed naked ladies, still smiling
In a bright purplish pink, for there are no snows
Soon, the land will be white, when tomorrow bows

As I eagerly wait for December sky
To glow, with sensational firecrackers’ lights
In my arms, my grandson awaken from sleep

No words spoken, but, has the smile on his face
In him I saw myself, in my father’s arm
Now I know, December’s coming, to give grace




Details | Grandson Poem | |

THEY DON’T BITE LIKE THEY USED TO

He sat there in his fav'rite chair, a blanket 'cross his lap 
And covering his snow white hair was his old fishing cap. 
I knew he could not talk to me since suffering the stroke, 
But still I sensed he could relate to ev'ry word I spoke. 
"I went and wet a line today ... down where you caught that cod. 
The biggest one you'd landed yet and though it was my rod 
I reckon he was yours all right ... but cod are far and few.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"The algae's building up again and stuffing up the creeks, 
Though at long last we had a fresh, the first in flam’in weeks. 
Pulled twenty stinking euros in, along with one old dew, 
But they had sores all over them, though still that's nothing new. 
The cotton farmers cry, "Absurd!  It can’t be from our spray." 
Perhaps the fish have just got aids from turning flam'in gay. 
Its getting pretty sad all right, but what can one bloke do.   
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"McDonalds seems to be the go and good old KFC 
And eating yellow-belly is a flam'in rarity.   
Your grandson won't go fishing as he says it's just for nerds 
And when I take the missus we just end up having words. 
I really miss our fishing trips, your company was swell 
And by the mist there in your eyes you miss them dad as well. 
I heard you sold your tinny mate, your outboard motor too.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
They're introducing fingerlings and giving that a shot, 
But duckweed takes the oxygen which kills the flam'in lot. 
The droughts have had their toll as well and one thing that's for sure; 
I can't see in the future dad a remedy or cure. 
So mum's ducked down to Salty's mate and I would dare a punt 
She'll come back with a feed of fish before you say Rex Hunt. 
I guess we'll have to wash it down with some of your home brew. 
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 


Details | Grandson Poem | |

The Bombay Grocery (Indian)- Charlotte-North Carolina

The Bombay Grocery (Indian)- North Carolina

Shyam*, finds cat food at special rate near the door.
Goes to check out to manager of the grocery store
Doubting manager asks to bring cat if he has one
Shyam returns with his small cat to buy food anon.

Next day Shyam comes with a bag in his hand
And ask the manager to put his hand to the end
Manager puts his hand and shouts “Poo,Doodie pure”
Shyam says, “ yes, sir, I want the toilet paper sure” 

=================================

Fourth Place winner IN

Contest: Grocery Grammer by Linda-Marie, the sweetheart

* Shyam is an Indian name. Shyam also means Black-cloud colour. It is one of the name of 
Lord Krishna. It happens to be the name of one of my grandson living in Charlotte (NC)

Details | Grandson Poem | |

The Soldier's Way

When my son was small he and his friends loved to play marines
A brown eyed soldier dressed up in his helmet and his jeans
I asked him why he always died whenever they would play
He just said “I saved my friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way”

As he grew up his Mom and I always wondered what he’d be
When he reached high school he enrolled in their ROTC
Once he had finished high school he enlisted without delay
I should have known it all along, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

When he had finished training and became a full marine
I was the proudest father that anyone had ever seen 
A brown eyed soldier in full dress not a thread in disarray
Stood proudly there before me, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

He eventually got married to a beautiful young wife
And I asked if she was ready for a military life
She just smiled and hugged me tight as she fondly did convey
That nothing could make her prouder, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

One day he told us he must leave for a war had broken out
He wasn’t sure what started it or what it was about
His mother asked if there was any way that he could stay
He told her “Mom, it’s my duty”, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

She said “Son, it’s very dangerous, you could be killed you know”
He said “Mom, if we all stayed home there’d be no one left to go”
“Dad,” he said “If this war is right it’s not for me to say”
But I have to follow orders, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way 

Just recently his wife received a visit and a letter
Our son had died in combat and that there was not a better
Leader in all their company, and that on that fateful day
He’d bravely saved all of his friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

He left behind a sweet young wife and beautiful little son
We all are very proud of him and everything he’s done
My son did his duty and he is coming home today
In a flag draped wooden coffin, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

Some have asked if I’m angry that my only son had to die
I simply smile and shake my head and here is my reply
My friend take a look at all you have around you here this day
You have all of these lovely things, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way

My grandson looks just like his Dad in his helmet and his jeans
As he plays out with his buddies, pretending they’re marines
And when he falls and pretends to die, then I know right away 
That he has just saved all his friends, ‘cause that’s the soldier’s way


For William J. Holder
In memory of Jon R. "Sonny" Holder
Died during the Vietnam conflict

Details | Grandson Poem | |

Home schooling

Home schooling

My Grandson Jakob lives with me
He’s quite intelligent
Now he’s a ‘one of’ kind of lad
He’s deep and he’s intense
He used to go to the local school
Where bullies did abound
And though he’s such a peaceful lad
No peace for him was found.

So we took him out of school
And his mum, she teaches him
He’s showed since she has started this
That he’s anything but dim
His grades have shot up very high
Since he left that school
And no one bullies him no more
Or treats him like a fool.

And yet I hear so many say
Home schooling is real bad
So I do say to all these folk
‘Well you should see our lad’
He’s happiness just shines on through
He’s getting brighter ever day
I think home schooling is the best
In every kind of way.

18 May 2014 @ 0940hrs

Details | Grandson Poem | |

William Kite, Sergeant Peppers Lonely Heartclub

 
~~~Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite~~~ An all round performer was Mr William Kite He trained and rode horses, but also walked the rope tight He worked for Pablo Fanqué the Wells Circus owner in 1842 But his work gave inspiration for John Lennon to do. Mr William Kite would never have dreamed. That his skills as a performer would inspire a song theme As he performed on his head, while balancing on a rope A trumpet in his mouth, and he played a damn fine note. When he was with John Sanger, who was equestrian minded William appeared for a spectacular night, the poster has reminded The celebrated horse called Zanthus was even there With Mr William Kite to perform - boy what a pair This poster impressed John Lennon so... It inspired him to write about William and the show Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, the poster does show Inspired quite a few lyrics as all Beatles fans will know. What they may not know - but I am impressed There is a man called David with whom I am blessed He is the great great grandson of William by whom Lennon was inspired But better than that David is my half brother it has so transpired.
The Beatles Album Cover is "Sergeant Peppers Lonely Heartclub" which potrays the poster of Mr Kite

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