Best Grandpa Poems
The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.
He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap
The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?
The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took
They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.
Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess
When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.
But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there
He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go
She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took
He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.
But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead
The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?
*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*
Hi grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she pass?
The way she looked into your eyes,
Moments before she said goodbye
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma,
She will always wait for you.
Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night
Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer?
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf
Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane she handcrafted before she left
Hello, grandpa, it's me again!
My tears have soften now,
knowing you will soon see her again
Take your place with her in the sky
Please, say hi and give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
I love you grandpa
~*~
I will not forget,
my grandmother's gentle, loving, gnarled touch;
those hands that I loved so very much,
not a day spent with her I will regret.
We made chocolate cake,
our best dessert to make;
and we liked sad movies though we got upset,
those old, old hands would reach out for me;
her grasp a plea . . .
I have a memory dear,
of grandma holding me to her beating heart;
when death came and my sister had to depart,
stroking my hair until my tears would disappear.
And when grandpa died,
we hugged and cried;
I watched her hands grow more fragile each year,
like a twisted road map of her tangled life;
her death hit like a knife . . .
______________________
April 28, 2018
Poetry/Rhyme/Grandmother's Hands
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1017-836-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Written for Jamie's Interesting Contest
sponsor, Jamie Pan, (Theme #5, Elements #2)
First Place
Grandpa
a kind face
skin leathery and creased from years of working in the sun
long jowls like a basset hounds
sad droplet eyes
always a slight aroma of beer
brown wrinkled callous palms
dirt-stained fingernails were evidence of an old man’s toil
a blue plaid shirt now ashen from wear
a tall man
always unshaven with scrapes of gray hair that would scratch you un-mercifully if he asked for a hug
he walked with shoulders hung and bowed over as if broken
that of a man who had known the burdens of inequality all his life
the kindness in his eyes reflected a graceful acceptance of his fate
his tears masked a rage and unforgiveness for the destiny of his children
late afternoons he would sit out yonder under a huge black gum tree
a blackened wood briar pipe a pack of red man chewing tobacco and a can of snuff beside him
one jaw always popped out as the tobacco had to sit just long enough before it was time to spit
he would sit in that shaded spot for hours on end
up till sunset most days
always staring intently at something out there
was it memories from his past
or perhaps the dreams of a past that someone stole
eventually, grandma would call out to him
Henry where you be?
he would always reply
after awhile
I’m just there…
I never understood what that meant before
Until now
The asphalt driveway is blackened over by rain
sand bags lie in the corner of the garage in case water creeps in, some sheep scurry in distant fields
Your elephant eyes are locked on the TV; 55 inches of electronic love
I liked lying under the moonlight on summer nights as moths danced towards the patio light I remind myself in melancholy moods, child please don’t cry, every season changes
Your vehicle’s mileage spans out to El Dorado’s grave and back
The snares of your life keep drumming it’s slower now, consistent patters; the TV is staring back at you copper pennies lie in wait beside your remote control, everything has a place with you
If I could tie a rope around your Will I would direct it towards my family, we are hopeful you will see us, and remember tossing your children in the air, serving crepes every Christmas morning and the brick house you lived in with your wife for more than two decades, a pool of tumbling memories without all the injures, it is ok to feel free, to be a part of a living zoo
thunder rumbles past our yellow one-story apartment, somewhere swans sleep unaware of rain
swaying slowly when you stand, I’m starting to realize God balances us all out
cement like air fills my lungs as the newscaster gets soaked by yet another wave
staring blankly, you blink at the angel food cake on the counter and shuffle on, towards the Rio Grande
bones of drowned years clamber past Nevada, Arizona, all the tumble weed states
falling forward we catch ourselves each day, we shade our eyes from the glaring sun, as the dust gathers below the Grand Canyon
you shuffle in and switch the channel, the trumpets settle in my heart as you ask, how did it go today?
The leaves have turned brown and crisp
And I've remembered
How much you've been missed
On a day like today
It's the days when I feel down
And I'm sad
That you're not around
Desperately in need of a grandpa's embrace
You were like my best friend
And I'm yearning
For the hours we'd laugh on end.
Now I'm doing quite the opposite
The memories harvest in my mind
As I bow to your grave
With flowers of all kinds
Commemorating the part you played
In shaping the person I am today.
Yours sincerely,
A granddaughter that misses you dearly.
I have loved him since I was young.
Through every cloud, he rose the sun.
His work was honest – one-on-one with land.
I loved this farmer and his callused hands!
Safe, strong arms would lift me to sit upon his tractor.
Picture boy and Grandpa - no memory could be happier.
Today, I took the inherited watch from my mantle.
Now the cherished timepiece accompanies my flight,
perhaps lending faith to my emotional plight.
Precious ticking in my pocket comforts my destination;
brings forth his presence and I will not try to stop it
for the watch soothes my driving desperation.
Steering, my feelings begin actively conceiving
wings in golden display soaring my car this day
thru prayer-filled air to timely see me there.
So many endless miles of thunder under my wheels.
Thoughts ever somber tumble various appeals.
I gasp down feelings he may leave before I show.
He stays in my heart’s eye while I consume highway
on burning, dedicated tires determined to fly
'cause Grandma phoned to say, Grandpa would soon die.
My husband... has never minded
eating a vegetable he doesn't like
just so they will eat theirs...
Or eating half smashed, soggy potato chips
out of clammy little hands,
when they've decided they would like to share...
He's fine... letting them play hairdresser...
sitting patiently, while they curl his hair,
He will play Old Maid, pretending to have a sour face...
all the while letting them win
He doesn't mind drinking muddy looking tea
from a tiny little cup, that is too small for his fingers
Or sitting out in the blazing sun
on a hot summer afternoon
watching them stay cool, as they frolic in the sprinklers
He shows excitement
over a Popsicle stick
glued onto cardboard,
and tied with a bow....
exclaiming it to be his favorite birthday gift...
He doesn't mind taking them up and down the aisles of Wal Mart
for an hour, while they decide how to spend their dollar
He would rather spend his day playing hopscotch
than a round of golf
He's their Grandpa.........
Just one more reason why I love him
________________________________________________________
"A Good Man" Contest
Sponsor: Lewis Rayne
Grandpa was a carpenter
With his saw and hammer and plane,
He built houses and a church and furniture
So many knew his craftsman name, and then
And then he had to slow down,
No Social Security or pension had he,
But not one to ever give up,
He built flats for flowers from seed.
Lowly little pansies caught his love,
He planted his own flats ‘til faces would show,
With the peaches from his backyard trees;
This carpenter man sold all he would need.
His hands were rough, his eyes held a twinkle;
His hugs were so tight, my dress had a wrinkle;
I’ll always remember my Scotchman grandpa;
He gave me my dear mother, after all.
“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation.” Rumi
Oils from my lantern of longing still burn,
as mamma constantly calls for you.
It's raining in mournful melodies,
serenading sorrowfully under moonlight melancholy,
as my tears reflect in a plethora of painful puddles.
In desolate darkness, all I see is your face.
I can still hear the echoes of your last goodbye,
where you asked to come and see you soon.
I resemble the mood of the moon,
but my innocent illumination remains intimately inherent.
I will never forget auburn autumn leaves lingering,
casually covering your granite grave with fresh flowers.
I could sit here forever,
waiting to hear you call my name.... One more time.
If only we could return to your abode,
walk along that cobbled path and then
sit in your verdant veranda full of vibrant colours.
Savour a cup of tea and listen to all your tales,
because the birds still arrive, wondering where you are.
How those people used to come from afar,
now all that's left is emptiness and silence.
From nothing you built your own castle,
despite so many obstacles placed in your way.
You won the hearts and respect of so many,
with your compassion and sincerity.
Your hands would nourish the sweetest fruits
and the most delectable, perfumed honeysuckle.
But now they too seem to have wilted away.
I'll always suffer from the pangs of loss,
but I know you would want me to smile
and always spread joy and compassion.
I wonder one day when we meet again,
will we plant pretty petals in heaven's garden.
Grandpa
Telling me always
about the old world
trying to make me
an understanding girl.
I love You
None can ever replace you.
When grandpa was courtin' grandma, in those sweet days that are long past..
There were no automobiles to drive them, transportation wasn't very fast.
They had to make do with what they had, which was usually a horse and buggy.
And on those summer nights there was no air conditioning, and it could be most muggy.
They had no airplanes, no fancy restuarants, no laptops or PC's.
But they had a big full moon in a starry sky, and stole kisses in the night breeze.
They had no television or movie shows to depend on for a date.
But they did have imaginations to help them find a mate.
Grandpa would ask grandma very shyly if he could have a kiss.
And she'd say no and turn her head and pucker, grandpa would never miss.
And she'd say, "Golly gee, oh my!" And he'd say, "Wow! Oh me, oh my!"
And then his arm would slip around her, while they were looking in the sky!
And Christmas time was especially nice because there was usually snow.
They'd hitch the horse up to a sleigh and off they both would go.
Sliding on the snow so white and slick, they always had such fun.
Even when the sleigh got stuck and they got out to run.
Yes when grandpa courted grandma, in those lovely days of yore,
The clothes back in that day, were different that they wore.
Grandpas knickers were the height of fashion and grandmas long dresses were divine.
And it really didn't matter much because it was that time.
But wouldn't you dear hearts agree, if we could just go back.
And visit in that time again how much we'd like to pack.
Of grandpa's strong convictions and grandma's virtues fine.
And bring a little back with us, yes, to this day and time.
Dear Asia.
I was awakened in the middle of the night
with you on my mind. By the time the clock
struck 12:40 AM, the tears had already appeared.
Before I could wipe those wet-drops away, three
words gushed from the depths of my heart and lay
siege to my mind. I lay there for a good while until
I knew that this heartfelt emotion had to be recorded
and shared with you while it was fresh in my spirit.
Without any utterings from my lips, my heart was
clearly saying, "I'm sorry, Asia". I was feeling
your pain, a pain that must have evaded me 2 years
ago. Two years ago, I think that I was overwhelmed
with the pain I was feeling about losing my little
granddaughter. You were spreading your wings in
directions that terrified me.
I was sorry because I wasn't prepared to see you
through your growing pains. I think that I became
afraid of what I could no longer influence. Papa Girl
was the only you That I knew, and when I no longer saw her,
I became angry and weak, unable to see you through your
hard times that you considered to be your good times.
I felt shut out of your life, and I didn't know how
to keep knocking at the door of a grown-up young lady
who had a mind of her own. You were no longer the
Papa Girl whom I once knew and took to school for
12 years and more.
I'm sorry, Asia, for being weak when you needed me
to be strong enough, understanding enough, and flexible
enough to acquaint myself with the grown-up you. I'm sorry
for not being accepting and loving enough to let go.
Again, I'm sorry Asia. Please forgive me.
Grandpa.
Grandpa told some more tall stories today.
He thinks his memories are true
but we all know he was always a self-made liar,
kidding all and sundry seven ways to Monday,
faking the figures for the giddy and gullible,
plagiarizing other peoples
experiences and making up whoppers.
Some think his rambling tales just adorable,
others hope he would not speak at all
for gobbledygook is his halting style.
When we check on his fibs
and question him
he just stares at us
blank-eyed like a fresh caught fish.
We have had to put him in a big white house
for his own safety
trouble is
no one else is safe now.
More rocks than soil on those flinty hills
Where he tilled the grudging land.
He chopped the sprouts and manned the plow,
With cracked and callused hands.
No stranger to adversity,
Through hard and bitter years
He wet the dusty, stony ground
With a poor man’s sweat and tears.
He was not a man you’d hear complain,
Though hard times dogged his trail.
He faced the foe unflinchingly;
His courage never failed.
He cried unto his unseen Friend,
A Friend who always hears--
To the One who sees and understands
A poor man's sweat and tears.
The legacy he left behind
Was not of wealth or fame.
On history’s golden pages
You will not find his name.
He lived a simple, honest life,
In a world that little cares.
His name was written in the dust
In a poor man's sweat and tears.
No rocks, no sprouts, no callused hands
Where he safely dwells today,
In that everlasting Eden,
Beyond the Milky Way.
Where hope ends in reality
And joy relieves all fears--
A garden where no one is poor--
And no more sweat and tears.