Sonnet Grandfather Poems | Sonnet Poems About Grandfather
These Sonnet Grandfather poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Sonnet Grandfather poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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On this October's mild stirrings
I watched ached nights flicker, to glow
Around his hair like angel wings
Recalling joyrides... so mellow.
That in hushed tones,I called Gramps' name
Enshrined within my youth's warm space...
My hands folded with love aflame,
While prayers spilled through chill's embrace.
Though failing heart quivered in ticks,
Faith...way back then when I was ten
Gripped, he was nearing sixty six
As prayers trailed,wafting amen.
Until spring came, Gramps' flare restored
With new life blessed from harbor's ward.
Way Back Then When I Was Ten
Kelly Deschler's Contest
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
She so lovingly remembers her grandfather here.
Tho many years gone; his memories kept near.
This book he read to her while she sat in his lap.
Taking her on great adventures; imaginations tapped.
Inhaling the aroma of orange blossoms, sweet.
Hungry after each journey, this fruit they would eat.
Filled with such nostalgia it's his scent she misses;
cherry pipe tobacco, also tasted on his kisses.
This has become a tradition for her each year;
happy memories filling her with joy, never tears.
For he is on an adventure in paradise now;
another for her to join him, when she is laid in the ground.
She will read to her grandchildren from this old book one day.
Where precious memories of her in this garden will be made.
Contest: A poem in Paradise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
I wonder what your thinking, in your country far away
And what on earth possesses you to threaten mine today
You allow your people to starve, munitions they are first
While daily people starve to death and many die of thirst
Your father and grandfather should have taught you how to care
Instead they shared their legacy of treating people unfair
Many live in work camps with three generations or more
Simply because they disagreed, so now all must chore
You live in style above the rest, have people who adore
But deep down, I believe that each person longs for more
You teach hatred and despise my country each and every day
For freedom and free choice would take yours away
Your people follow in fear, like robots in a line
I wonder how long they will conform or will it be your time
More and more try to escape, or die instead of live
In a country such as yours that takes much more than it gives
Each building,statue, memorial you have to tell a tale
Of twisted truths and travesties instead they often fail
For freedom is what's needed in the country you call home
Grow food instead of opium,and leave the people alone
You have the power in your hands to change what was past
Hurry please before it's too late you must do it fast
Do not start a war in which more people will die
Because your father and grandfather started it with a lie.
Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013
The Old Orphan
here he came in need of love
sadly,he found himself orphan
it was the wish of the one above
like a musician without his organ
he felt a small baby inside his chest
he searched for his beloved toy
he found it ... No, not yet
couldn't brook weeping though
he brought her picture out
took his time looking at her eyes
his heart by her name shout
he couldn't forget her voice nor her smiles
at last he joined her in peace down deep
under the four seasons they sleep
Copyright © Arabian Poet | Year Posted 2015
That small but a mighty house. Wh're you once lived & gone, Built upon the mountains high. Left for a generations yet unborn. How long would it lingers us far too off. To know the labour of our heroes past. shall not be in vain or aloof. If it were not for your lased eyes. Piercing the psychic of the coming years like an eagles descryings. Would your name brought about this future.That everyone who had come in the lemmings. Would rather die with emeaba on their lipsture. That teeming & bustling house. No one seemed to care but carried off by gloats.
Copyright © kelechi Emeaba | Year Posted 2014
(Blank Verse Sonnet)
The wagons slice a trail across the plains
in search for gold or land to claim and build
abodes where independence rules supreme;
my great-grandfather leads them west for gain
all while his wife and sons work on the farm.
The trails he carves become long rails of iron
throughout a nation sworn by force of law –
that each man’s peace now lies within his hands.
Yet greed breeds theft, and swag digs ugly wounds
across the land where freedom banners wave;
while bondage of the poor and frail prevails
and brother murders brother, flushed with rage.
A government now sets the bar too high,
as mothers, east to west, spill bitter tears.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014