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Spring Grandmother Poems | Spring Poems About Grandmother

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

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Details | Haiku |

haiku 20 haiku 21 about a different Spring

grandma's garden a missing rose lay on her stone longing another Spring blooms without you

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Bare Hearted

Bare Hearted
Anne Morin

Moving backward in time,
there is new sunshine,
the forbidden delight
of disobedient barefooted prancing

through cool grasses,
freshly green and waiting
to caress tiny warm toes
and naughty little hearts.

A wicked world marches on
but not between our clotheslines
hung with spanking clean white sheets
flapping in the chilly spring breeze

where joyous abandon
cannot be kept inside
as cold, slender blades tickle our feet
and an ecstatic younger sister screeches,

“Look at us, Grandma!
Bare-hearted foots!”

Grandma’s switch was a lesson that stung.

Copyright:  Anne Morin, 2007

Copyright © Anne Morin | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Spring Bloom Tulips of Perfect Love

  Many years have since passed

Upon the years of gold

Bond between us we did hold

  Around my neck I clasp a strand

carved, yellowed with age spring bloom tulips

               Perfect love

  Grandma used to wear 

stood out with her dark brown hair

    like no other

  I try to hide tears of times we shared

  Each bead is unique, varying in size

       Not much,


     I get to hold what brings me peace

  I don't know if you can see her in me

I feel her warmth of tender love

She's in my heart

               Perfect love

  The reason that I seem so far away

Somewhere laced in time I disappear

In the warmth of her tender love


       ^ ^ ^
     I8 I 88
     I8 I 88 I      
  .  I8 I 88 I . 
        i ^ I                   ^ ^ ^
  () . \( )/. ()            I8 I 88
         \8/                 I8 I 88 I
          l8l              .  I8 I 88 I .
          l8l    t              i ^ I                          ^ ^ ^ 
          l8l     u       () . \( )/. ()                  I8 I 88
          l8l    l                \8/                       I8 I 88 I 
                i                  l8l                     .  I8 I 88 I .
              p                   l8l       t                  i ^ i
           s       t              l8l        u           () . \( )/. ()        
                   u              l8l       l                   \8/            
                        l                 i                       l8l
                           i           p                         l8l         t
                               p                                 l8l          u
                                     s                           l8l        l

Poetry Contest: Old Jewelry or Just Old Things  
 Sponsored by: Broken Wings  

The meaning of tulips is generally perfect love 
They say I look like my grandma :)

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |


Crash down softly, where the red crush deepens
Charming, snatch your cherries from the stem
Rude health walking in the greenburst showers
Weather wonders whether she's with him.

Then fly downhill for the lost sensation
Climbing with a shudder back up fell,
Rainjacked half smiles and a skywide feeling
Rush to hunker down the shattered elm.

She could suffocate the hyacinthes
Breeding and pervading every pore
Skim-stop stones among the lead-tipped peril
Breathing once again in semaphore.

They play catch perhaps, a shimmy in slow motion
Every brush a shock to seek again
All fall ragwards in the bluebell clusters
Laughing, shrinking, knowing... something.

Jill woos butterflies while you play Hamlet
Cradling a half-brick in your hands
Grass-stained livery that can't stay forever
Sedge bonfire from nowhere and that hound.

Who'll tell grandma that the wolf has eaten?
Who'll break the bank for just a dare?
Leave mudboots ashamed to save twelve seconds
Gunning for the best seat in the lair.

Copyright © PV Harrington | Year Posted 2015