Long Poem Topics

Check out these short poem topics. Find short poems by topic or form.

abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
allegory allusion
america analogy
angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
bangla baptism
baseball basketball
beach beautiful
beauty bereavement
best friend betrayal
bible bio
bird birth
birthday black african american
blessing blue
boat body
books boxing day
boy boyfriend
break up bridal shower
brother bullying
business butterfly
cancer candy
car care
career caregiving
cat celebration
celebrity change
chanukah character
cheer up chicago
child child abuse
childhood children
chocolate christian
christmas cinco de mayo
cinderella city
class clothes
color columbus day
community computer
confidence conflict
confusion cool
corruption courage
cousin cowboy
crazy creation
crush cry
culture cute love
dad daffodils
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
deep depression
desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
drug earth
earth day easter
education emo
emotions encouraging
endurance engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion father
father daughter father son
fathers day fear
february feelings
film fire
firework first love
fish fishing
flower flying
food football
for children for her
for him for kids
forgiveness freedom
french friend
friendship fruit
fun funeral
funny funny love
future games
garden gender
giggle girl
girlfriend giving
god golf
good friday good morning
good night goodbye
gospel gothic
graduate graduation
grandchild granddaughter
grandfather grandmother
grandparents grandson
grave green
grief growing up
growth guitar
hair halloween
happiness happy
happy birthday hate
health heart
heartbreak heartbroken
heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
hip hop history
hockey holiday
holocaust home
homework hope
horror horse
house how i feel
howl humanity
humor humorous
hurt husband
hyperbole i am
i love you i miss you
identity image
imagery imagination
immigration independence day
innocence insect
inspiration inspirational
international internet
introspection ireland
irony islamic
january jealousy
jesus jewish
jobs journey
joy judgement
july june
kid kindergarten
kiss language
leadership leaving
life light
little sister london
loneliness lonely
longing loss
lost lost love
love love hurts
lust lyric
magic malayalam
marathi march
marriage math
may me
meaningful memorial day
memory men
mental illness mentor
metaphor middle school
military miracle
mirror miss you
missing missing you
mom money
moon morning
mother mother daughter
mother son mothers day
motivation mountains
moving on mum
murder muse
music my child
my children mystery
myth mythology
name native american
natural disasters nature
new year new years day
new york nice
niece night
nonsense nostalgia
november nursery rhyme
obituary ocean
october old
onomatopoeia pain
paradise parents
paris parody
pashto passion
patriotic peace
people perspective
pets philosophy
places planet
poems poetess
poetry poets
political pollution
poverty power
prayer prejudice
preschool presidents day
pride princess
prison proposal
psychological purple
quinceanera race
racism rain
rainbow rainforest
rap raven
recovery from red
relationship religion
religious remember
remembrance day repetition
retirement riddle
rights river
romance romantic
rose roses are red
rude sad
sad love satire
scary school
science science fiction
sea seasons
self senses
sensual september
sexy sick
silence silly
silver simile
simple sin
sister sky
slam slavery
sleep smart
smile snow
soccer social
society softball
soldier solitude
sometimes son
song sorrow
sorry soulmate
sound space
spanish spiritual
spoken word sports
spring star
stars storm
strength stress
student success
suicide summer
sun sunset
sunshine surreal
sweet symbolism
sympathy tamil
teacher teachers day
technology teen
teenage thank you
thanks thanksgiving
thanksgiving day tiger
time today
together travel
tree tribute
true love trust
truth uplifting
urban urdu
usa vacation
valentines day vanity
veterans day violence
visionary vogon
voice volleyball
voyage war
water weather
wedding wife
wind wine
winter wisdom
woman women
word play words
work world
world war i world war ii
write writing
yellow youth
Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Long Grandchild Poems

Long Grandchild Poems. Below are the most popular long Grandchild by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grandchild poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Elisa Christensen | Details |

My Little Kings

I met you on the road of Longing,
As you took me hand in hand,
My heart burst with love wide open,
And so our journey began.-

My Kings, my life is yours,
I have lived to this moment for you,
And from this very breath until my last,
I am devotedly yours in all that I do.

We splashed and played that day,
Along the water's crystal edge blue.
As the grey heron gracefully glided,
And the gentle, green lace lay softly in dew.

I looked at my First King and asked,
As his eyes sparkled crystal blue,
What will you teach me this day?
For it was what you were born to do.

At that moment, I barely caught him,
As my dancing around him led to a fall,
And although I knew he was hurting,
With tears he said nothing at all.

My heart, at the mere idea of,
Causing my Little King pain,
Like the most delicate glass it shattered,
And I vowed to never be so careless again!

"My Dear Mom, don't you understand?
A perfect you is not what I seek,
I want a mother who is brave enough,
To dance with me when I'm strong or weak!

Your love for us is without limit,
In all that we are and that we do,
Give us the gift of loving yourself the same,
Be gentle and forgiving of yourself too."
My Youngest King ran up to me now,
And the sun sparkled off his golden hair,
"My Dear King, will you still find me beautiful?
Even when my glow and shine are no longer there?"

"My Dear Mother, there is no beauty,
Like the beauty you are in our eyes,
As we are to you, the green in your world,
You bring the blue to our skies."

There in the forest, I began to sing,
My sons' favorite lullabies,
And suddenly the birds all joined in,
Flitting down to us from the skies.

Although my voice cracked horribly,
And I constantly changed to a worse key,
I noticed the boys smiled and hummed with me,
As if I was in perfect harmony.

As the sun glittered down through the trees,
Casting green and yellow light shows all around,
I understood for the very first time,
To them I was the perfect act, perfect sound.

My Kings, I spoke, slowing a bit,
My eyes on the earth's raw floor,
What if I just don't know the right things?
Don't know the best or need to know more?

What if I misguide the King's best ships?
Or lead his finest ponies astray?
What if you look to me for help in need,
And I fail you on your most critical day?

My tears dropped heavily onto the wide leaves,
And my heart beat hard at the thought,
Cruze slipped his small hand into one of mine,
And Neeko the other then they told what I sought,

Our, dear, sweet mother we ask nothing of you,
Except your love and acceptance, nothing more.
And just as I lifted my eyes to see them,
I heard a distant mother lion roar.

You are perfect just by being ours,
Our Queen, our Mother, our Love,
Just as we, your Sons, your Little Kings,
Are your perfect gifts from Heaven above.

Come walk through this life with us, Mom,
And let use show you the many ways,
We can share our lives and the joy they bring,
In all of our many glorious, sunny, days.

And when your gift of unconditional love, Mom,
Has turned us from Little Kings into Great Men,
We will present you with gifts to show you our love,
A new set of Little Kings for you to love again!

Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Kelly Crenshaw | Details |

I hope

I'm 51 today.
51 tomorrow, yay
Was 51 yesterday.
52 is months away,
And yes I'm thankful.
Although it's not my real birthday,
It kinda is in a certain way.
I'm still alive another day.
I had the notion to celebrate.
And be thankful.
Though it's not a holiday. 
Thanksgiving has come and gone away,
I'm just alive today.
For that I'm thankful.
Honestly, I am not just trying to make these lines rhyme,
Or reflect upon the deep sublime.
I'm just grateful today to be alive.
I mean really thankful.
I'm not trying to wow you with philosophy,
Or impress you with theology.
It matters not at all to me.
I just feel thankful.
So tonight I take a walk outside,
I look up into the endless sky and then I breathe.
I breathe in deep,
And I say thank you.
And maybe not just to Who you think, 
Man let's throw in the kitchen sink,
And include all who've touched my life, to whom I'm thankful.
Some of you I'm glad you're gone,
Even tho you still live on
Frankly you stayed a bit too long
But some you the grave stole far too soon,
And yet I'm still thankful.
Today the living and the dead
You've both been right up inside my head, 
And synergized this verbal thread.
For that I'm thankful.
I close my eyes and think of Tim, named David right there toward the end. 
I always smile when I think of him,
And now I listen
I heard a siren going by,
I wonder who and wonder why,
Was it a wreck, did someone die?
Yet still I listen.
Neighbors dogs are going wild.
Was that the laughter of a child.
Seems like I can hear for miles.
Still I listen.
I hear the hi-way roar of cars.
Tho I have never heard the stars
Is there really life on Mars?
Shhh brain please shut up and listen!
The soft night whispers in my ears.
Pressing through my random fears,
I stand amazed at what I hear.
And now I wonder.
I open up my eyes and see as I feel this winter breeze
The silhouette of leafless trees.
I stand in wonder
Then I wonder about the first man to ever be,
Or the first time he looked up to see
The Milky Way the galaxies.
Did he wonder?
I wonder what he did
How he loved how he lived.
If he ever lost a friend?
Man oh man I wonder.
Was he the first to dig a grave?
How it sounded if he prayed?
How he fought?
How he played?
If that man could see us all today,
What would he say I wonder?
In ways was he a lot like me?
Did he sometimes fear what he could not see?
Did he create unseen walls 
Of unbelief?
I stand and wonder.
Did he ever hurt the ones he loved?
Did life convince him not to trust?
I wonder.
My great grandfather lived
My DNA is shared with him.
I wonder how we are the same,
And I don't even know his name.
Still I wonder.
Will my great grand kids know my name?
Will it even matter who's to say?
Will they look up in wonder?
Will they listen?
Will they be thankful?
Not much I can leave to them
That would matter too much in the end.
I suppose the primal hope in man
Is the hope I hope lives on in them
I hope they wonder. About the universe.
I hope they listen. To life's unspoken verse.
I hope they're thankful. Even in midst of deepest hurts. 
I hope they're thankful.
I hope they listen.
I hope they wonder.
And no matter what life hands them,
I hope they hope.

Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by manisha joban Desai | Details |

meri gazle

?? ??? ??? ????? ?? ?? ??, 
???? ????? ?? ????? ?? ?? ???

?? ????? ?? ??? ???? ??? ? ????? 
??? ?? ????? ?????? ?? ?? ???

?? ?? ??? ?? ?? ?? ??? ??? ??, 
???? ??? ?? ?????? ????? -?? ?? ???

??? ?? ????? ???? ?? ??? ????,
?? ,??? ?? ??? ???? ?? ?? ???

??? ?? ?? ???? ????? ??? ?? 
??? ?? ?? ???? ?? ?????? ?? ?? ????

?? ??? ?? ??? ?? ????? ??? ?? ?? 
??? ???? ?? ????? ?????? ?? ?? ???

-????? '????'

????? ??? ?? ?? ???? ??? 

      ????? ??? ??? ?? ???? ?? ???? .....

?? ???? ?? ???? ,?? ??? ????? ??? 

       ??? ???? ???? ?? .....

?? ????? ?? ??????? ?? ....

  ????? ?? ??????? ?? ????? 

?? ???? ???? ??

        ???? ,?? ??? ?? ???? .....

?? ??? ??? ?? ????? 

        ??? ?? ???????  ?? ????? ,

??? ?? ?? ?? ??????,

        ?? ??????  ?????  ?????...

?? .....?? ???? ?? ???? ????? ??? ?? ,

       ??? ?? ????? ?? ???? 

??? ????? ?? ????... 

       ?? ????? ??? ?? ????? 

?? ???? ??? ?? ,

        ?? ????? ????? ?? ?? ?? ?????? ?? !

                                                                                                                                      ????? '???? '

??? ?? ??? ???? ??  ???  ??, 

???? ??  ?????  ??  ??  ??? ???

??? ,?? ??? ?? ?? ?? ??? ?? ?

??? ??  ?????????? ??  ???  ?? ?

???  ???? ?? ??? ????? ?? ,

?????  ?????  ??????  ???   ???

??? ?? ??? ?? ?? ??? ???   ?? ,

????? ?? ???  ?????  ???   ???

 ??????  ?????   ???? ??  ???.

???? ??  ?? ?  ?????   ???  ?? ? 

? ?? ??  ?????  ???? ???  ???? ,

????  ????  ???   ??   ??? ?? ?

-????? '????'


????? ?? ?? ???? ??

?? ????? ??, ?? ?? ???? ??

??? ?? ???? ??,

?? ?? ????? ??? ????? ???? ??

???? ????? ??????????,

???? ??? ?????? ????? ??? ,???

??? ?? ???????? ???, ???? ?? ?????? ???,

??? ?? ???? ???? ???? ??,

??? ?? ??????? ???, ???? ?? ???? ???

??????? ?? ??????? ???  ,???????? ?? ????? ???

???? ?? ????????? ???,

???? ?? ????? ?? ???? ???...

????? ?? ????? ??? ??????

?? ??? ?? ??????? ,?? ???????? ??

????? ??  ???? ????

?????? ?? ??

??? ???? ???? ?? ?????? ??

????? ?? ???? ??????


????? ?? ???? ,???? ?? ??????,
?? ???  ???   ????   ??????   ???????

????? ??? ???? ??   ????   ??? ????,
???? ???  ??????  ?????      ???????

??????  ????  ?????  ?? ??  ??? ???? ,
????? ????   ??????    ????   ???????

???? ??? ? ??? ?????   ??  ???  ??
????? ????  ?? ??  ??? ??? ?? ?? ???

???? ???? ??  ????  ?? ???  ??? ,
????  ?????   ?????   ???  ??? ?

-????? '???? '

Copyright © manisha joban Desai | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Robert Broadbent | Details |

My Grandchildren

Six poems about my Grandchildren

Grace 7

Grace; she was my first Grandchild
So sweet and full of charm,
I loved her from the moment 
That I held her in my arms

She grew up very quickly
As children always do
And when I say I’m Batman
She says “Granddad that’s not true!”

She is so much smarter now
And she has learned to tease
She makes me play with dollies
For an I love you Granddad squeeze

Christopher  5

Christopher is a typical boy
Always finds the noisiest toy
Full of energy full of fun
Give him a ball he’ll run, run, run

Down the slide rolls on the floor
Think he’s tired but he’ll do some more
Very loud and very shrill
Never ever standing still

Super heroes he’s a fan
Turtles and that Spiderman
Not too keen on going to school
But on the tablet Christopher rules 

Lucas  (Twin) 4 

When I’m on computer 
He will come and sit with me
He’ll shake his head say Granddad
You are pressing the wrong key

He shows me how to do it
And he’s ever so polite 
I think he is a genius
Cos always he is right

Instructions come up on the screen
But still he’s not deterred
Lucas he is only four
But he reads out every word

Ethan  (Twin) 4

Ethan is a comic
He is smiling all the time
If there is an audience 
He performs a pantomime 

He never can sit still for long
He likes to entertain 
Twenty seconds later
He has found a different game

When I take him to the shop
He’s running all the way
But he’s never out of breath
He’s far too much to say

Millie  3

Millie is a princess
She does them girly things
She likes those pretty dresses
And when Disney’s on, she sings

She really is a cutie
And she teases me sometimes
She sits upon her Nana’s knee
Saying, “Granddad, Nana’s mine!”

I think she’s lived a life before
Cos even though she’s three
When it comes to teasing 
She's so much better than me

Rachel  2

Rachel is the youngest
With an independent air
If someone ever leaves the room
Then Rachel’s always there

She’ll say come on now Granddad
And she’ll take me by the hand
She makes me walk along the street
Just to push her little pram

She sometimes gives a cuddle
But it’s quick and don’t last long
It takes her away from playing
And you know that’s always wrong

Granddad  (Proud!) 60s

So there you have my grandkids
And I love them everyone
I really enjoy their visits
But I’m shattered when they’re gone

Love you all xxxxxx

Copyright © Robert Broadbent | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by curtis johnson | Details |

Get On With It

Get On With It, A Letter To My Brother
By Curtis Johnson

Hi Michael:

You might have been too young to remember, but there is a certain line that Grandma use to say to any of us who was sent to the store.  At the time, I never determined the complete meaning of what she said.

I just assumed that I knew enough about what she meant, and went about completing the mission.  As I thought about it more recently, I tried to explore the depth of what she was saying.  I have wondered if she was being half poetic and half realistic.  Poetic because of the rhythm of her words, and realistic because of the true meaning of her words.

Grandma would often say, “Go in a haste and come in a pace.”  I never quite understood the ‘pace’ part.  It seems a bit contradictory that one would hurry to fetch a purchase, but return at a pace with the item.  Grandma knew what she was saying, and she must have been rather confident that we also understood her.  Assuming she meant for us to complete the assignment as quickly as possible, we always did our best to follow her every command.  I’m also sure that Grandma was not asking us to hurry without thought, or to the point where ‘haste’ makes ‘waste’.  She was simply saying for us to get on with it and stay focused to the finish.

Grandma could not read or write, but the lessons she taught have lasted for a lifetime.  Michael,  I have tried to get on with it, to Pursue the Course  that God laid out for me,  and to Stay Focused to the end.  Like everyone else, I have had set backs and ‘knock me down blows’, but by the grace God I kept getting up.  

So Michael, whatever mission that God has assigned to us, may we ‘get on with it’.
From time to time as we endeavor to get on with it, it will be necessary to set a certain pace, realizing that the finish lines are often far away.  Learning to listen to God and his wisdom will greatly assist us at certain junctures.  

Though we did not realize it at the time, our grandmother's words were very strong and powerful.  Those words uttered from the lips of one who could not read or write, speak volumes to me now.
No, it doesn’t matter so much that we fall down or get knocked down sometimes; but it does matter that we ‘get up and get on with it’ to fight another round, and another and another, until the fight is over.  That was grandma's way.

Cj07052014 “Get Up”

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by MoonBee Canady | Details |

A Child's Training

(Prov. 22: 6 /  Heb. 5: 14  /  Deut. 6: 6-9  /  2 Tim. 3: 13-15, 16  /  Matt. 19: 13, 14)

(Part One of Two)

If A Child Wants To Eat Candy
All Day Long …
When You Tell Them ‘No!’ - -
Is It Wrong?

If A Child Wants To Stay Up On School Nights
And Not Go To Bed …
Will You Leave The Matter At That
And Do What They Said?

If A Child Wants To Run The Streets
At All Hours of  The Night …
Would You Allow It
And Say ‘It’s Alright’?

If A Child Fell Into Hanging Out
With The Wrong Crowd …
Would You Do Nothing
Thereby Showing It’s Allowed?

If A Child Gets Some Silly Notion
And Is Being Misled …
Will You Not Try To Talk
Some Sense Into Their Head?

And When Your Child Makes A Mistake
(‘Cause All Of Us Make Life’s Errors)
Are You Going To Be Loving & Forgiving
Or Come Off Like Some Holy-Terror?

If You See That Your Child’s Life
Is In Imminent Danger …
Would You Leave His Soul’s Wellbeing
To Some Ulterior-Motive Stranger?

All Children Need Education
That’s Why We Send Them To School
But Isn’t Home Training
The Best Place For Understanding Life’s Rules?

Before Your Child Gets Polio or Smallpox
Or Some Other Life Threatening Situation
Would You Not Seek Out Preventative
Medicine or Cures Thru Vaccinations?

If A Child Just Wants To Play
And Not Do Chores or Homework …
Would You Not Try To Find Out
Why A Lazy Streak Is Starting To Lurk?

If Your Child Is Depressed
Unmanageable or Confused …
Would You Not Put Extreme Effort
Into Finding Just What You Could Do?

If A Child Needs To Be Shown Love
and We Withhold Our Kisses & Hugs
Are We Guilty When They Grow Up
Into ‘Crypts & Bloods’?

If Your Child Doesn’t Want To Talk
and Retreat In Hiding From The World
Wouldn’t You Do Everything In Your Power
To Help Your Precious Boy or Baby-Girl?

If Your Child Has Low Self Esteem
Or Shows A Lack of Character …
Wouldn’t You Want To Be
Their Value & Virtue  Narrator?

If Your Child Just Really Needs
Someone To Listen & To Talk To …
Would You Not Prefer
that That Someone Be You?

I Once Knew A Police Officer
Who Had Said of His Beat …
A Child Can Get Discipline At Home
Or They’ll Get Their Beatings In The Streets

And The Same Can Be Said
Of A Young Child’s Impressionable Mind
It Needs To Be Nurtured At Home
Or It Will Eat Every Junk & Stuff They Find

(Part One of Two)

                      Written & © :  7/16/2013

                       By:  The MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Aime Ailean | Details |

Ode To GrandFather

And have you drifted into the midst of time?
Do I have to move heaven and earth to find you; if so then I'll try.
Am I the only remnants of you, this reflection lost in a maze; this body, soul and spirit in which I 
often gaze. 
The form you left behind, this small girl wrapped in sin;
you've spoke to me in visions...this life shall never end. 
Not until I've found you and my soul can rest!
Your suffering continues from heavens great abyss, as you watch
your youngest Grandchild self-destruct in the way you did.
Can any of us escape it? The ties of blood which bind; 
I only know your memory shall haunt me until I die? 
  Have all forgotten you existed, when I'm judged or
shoved aside...they ne'er see you in all I do, they refuse
to look upon my "other side." 
And yet it seems the strongest, for blood cannot be fooled,
wishful thinking can lie and cheat you away but in truth I'm part of
Never will I stop, or cease this fruitless chase, I have to find
you somewhere; I have to see your face...for there's a rebel
in me, a burning fire inside and it never came from all these
people that I've come to know as mine.
I'll never hate ye Grandfather...wherever you have been; 
I've heard the worst about you but still I'm your kith and kin
and whatever horrid acts you've done I've already forgiven.
And I promise you I'll find you and I will not sink as deep and
I will not die young and hopeless in the sea of Isla drink.
You, yourself has kept me from knowing who you were...
why did you have to perish so long before I was born?
  All those myths and legends which surround your name,
you could have cleared what has been said, if you had lived
to explain! Why did you leave this world without so much as 
a word, a letter of some kind, telling of your hurt?
And out of three Grandchildren...why did you chose me? 
To be a rebel, the fighter, the one who'll set you free? 
Do I remind you of you in your youthful hours...was it my 
mind or feeble frame that drew your ghost beside me? 
  I know your here;I see you in myself, my mind, 
my longings. And I never sleep for in dreams I greet your
spirit which guides me. 

You are not dead and ne'er forgotten, not for as long as I live...
your spirit, your sorrow, your flaming desires dwell still within
this skin.

Copyright © Aime Ailean | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Joe Flach | Details |

Baseball in Heaven

My grandfather and I had a special relationship.

When I was young we lived near his home in Baltimore.  But, my family moved away from 
Baltimore when I was five and we lived most of my life in another state far away from my 
grandfather.  Whenever he called, however, I was the one grandchild he always wanted to 
talk to so we could discuss his beloved Baltimore Orioles.  I was the one grandchild who 
followed sports closely and always remained a true Baltimore sports fan.

Later in life, I learned that my grandfather was actually a gifted baseball player himself when 
he was young.  In those days, he would explain, professional baseball players did not make 
enough money to support a family so he had to make up his mind to either play baseball or 
get married and raise a family.  As it turned out, his love for baseball was only surpassed by 
his love for my grandmother and, although he hung on to the newspaper clippings that 
labeled him a “can’t miss professional baseball prospect”, he hung up his cleats and glove, 
married my grandmother and went out to find a “real” job.

But his love for the game survived and year in and year out, he and I discussed the 
intricacies of the game and enjoyed or lamented each baseball season based on the 
successes and/or failures of the Baltimore Orioles.  As crummy as the Baltimore bums are 
today, I was fortunate enough to experience and share many more successful seasons than 
poor ones during those limited years that I shared life with this amazing man.

I always felt sorry for my grandfather, considering him a victim of poor timing.  Had he 
been born about 50 years later in life, he would not have had to pick between being a 
baseball player or earning a living – in fact, with his talent, he could have earned a much 
better than average living while enjoying the one thing he loved most in life.

When my grandfather passed away, I was sure that he was joining a heavenly nine to once 
again strap on his spikes and don the leather.  Without a doubt, they must play baseball in 
heaven.  And I wait for the day that I sit in the heavenly bleachers and cheer on a young 
grandfather playing this wonderful game with other boys of summer.

(Inspired by, “is there baseball in heaven”, by Constance, A Rambling Poet)

Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2010

Long poem by Timothy Hicks | Details |

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

You can see him now, dirty as a horse
that slipped in the mud, planting petunias
with that infamous shamrock thumb

(Irish from his Pop      Appendage from his Mum)

stopping every now - and again -
to breathe deep that fragrance
rich with pheromone nostalgia
just like Grammy Georgina used too do

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree

I can still see her now, in her glory days,
with lovely lemon locks soaking up the summer sun,
rooted in that old-fashioned train of mind:
You don't stop your work until it's done!

(but a walking contradiction, just like her grandson,
... rose to her nose like ruby rebellion)

the tree doesn't grow solely from the ground

Water's an important player too,
especially from grandma's showering can

(laughing tears the shade of crystalline blue)

Course you can't forget those lifetime lessons either,
from dear ole Georgie, speaking with a sunny kind of seriousness,
about the importance of patience,
the fruitfulness of labor,
plucking up the surviving winters' courageous cucumbers,
blushing beets

the ground isn't just a place for our feet

Cause with her and I, we incinerate the stereotype:
young blood reflecting on infinity,
old knees dancing like she's got chipper chipmunks
for toes     giggles in the background like a photobomb
to the expected chapel silence

(it's not all peaches and cream though,
sometimes we get violent)

Orange slush, flying miles behind us,
at times getting grazed in the face
by nature's food fight

our feet between the squish squish of the crab apple

We were two peas, if you please, in a curious pod,
like a whimsical joke from a laughing God:
Me, the champion of her scallions,
the guardian of her garden,
leaving all sensibility befuddled
with an, "I beg your pardon?"

I wonder if she knew then the gravity of the situation,
watching mama scream bloody murder,
as I came into this world ...

... was she scratching her head, lips curled, in questioning amazement,
just like Newton must have been, when developing his theory?
What d'you suppose they both were thinking?

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree ...

Written March 27, 2016
For the Cliche Contest Hosted by Silent One

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by MoonBee Canady | Details |

A Child's Training Part 2 of 2

(Prov. 22: 6 /  Heb. 5: 14  /  Deut. 6: 6-9  /  2 Tim. 3: 13-15, 16  /  Matt. 19: 13, 14)

- cont. - from Part 1

And The Same Can Be Said
Of A Young Child’s Impressionable Mind
It Needs To Be Nurtured At Home
Or It Will Eat Every Junk & Stuff They Find

And You Can’t Let A Child
Follow Its Every Whim …
No Matter How Brilliant or Smart
Dumb Things Will Make Them Dim

But Parents Try To Remember
Just When You Were Young …
Didn’t You Just Want To Act Stupid
And Have Some Friends & Fun?

Every Child Needs To Know
What & Who They Can Trust …
This Is More Important Than That Job
& Making Big Bucks

Every Child Needs Guidance
Even If Parents Are Just Guessing
But There Is A Book of Instructions
To Keep Parents & Child From Stressing
(2 Tim. 3: 15, 16)

It Is A Compass & A Map
& Its Like Reading A Diary of  Confessions
Where Both Parents & Children
Can Learn About Real Life Lessons
(Matt. 4: 4  /  Matt. 19: 13, 14)

And We Need To Start Training Them Young
From The Crib & From The Womb
Give ‘Em Plenty Space & Privacy
But Know What’s Going On In That Room!

‘Cause Newsflash! … Now Hear This
When Children Get Wrong Ideas or Tears
It’s Up To Loving Parents & Families
To Steer Them Free & Clear

Yes, Newsflash! … Now Know This
Children Don’t Know Nuthin’!
It’s Up To Responsible Adults
To ‘Try’ & Teach Them Somethin’ …

Their Bright Little Eyes & Minds
Are Looking To Us For Advice
And We Have To Watch Their Little Heads
So They Don’t Get Infected With Lice!

Yes, Their Bright Eyes & Minds
Are Looking To Us For Advice
& There Is Not Enough or Too Much Time
That We Could Sacrifice

And Without The Rod of Discipline
Whether Spanking or Time Out On The Floor
Loving Communication Is What Keeps Them
From Being Spoiled & Rotted To The Core

Look – Grandmamma Used  To Tell Me
“If Everybody Is Sticking Their Head In The Fire
And They Tell You It Won’t Hurt …
You Tell ‘Em ‘You’re A Liar!’”

Listen, We All Can See That This World
Is Going To You Know Where In A Hand-Basket
But You Don’t Have To Let Them Group You & Yours
Into That Casket …

And When A Child Wants To Eat Candy
‘Cause It Tastes Good – All Day Long!
When You Tell Them “No!”
Listen … You Ain’t Wrong!

                        Written & ©:  7/16/2013

                        By:  The MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2013

Long Poems