Best Grandparents Poems
We are apples growing on our parent's tree, planted by our grandparents from the apples of our great-grandparents ~ author
October skies still reflect in your eyes
the way they once did on that day we were wed.
Autumn's bright leaves recall fond memories
of sweet days together through dark, stormy weather.
Once we were young, with our songs still unsung
As we both wondered, "what's it like to grow old?"
Nights fell, the months turned, new calendars came,
Now leaves in chill weather, in love, fall together
in orange, in crimson, in yellow, in suburn, in gold.
Our sunrise has faded, our sunset is near
The springtime has passed and the winter
we once thought we'd fear
is now here,
this love we still share is so dear.
The season's deep magic hides changes within,
A rose's young bloom that won't open again,
like children that change right in front of our eyes -
the soft painted ceiling of October skies
in orange, in crimson, in yellow, in auburn, in gold.
// My grandparents had an October wedding. This song was a gift to them on their 60th anniversary. //
written October 1979
The old red wheelbarrow is still standing there
right next to my Grandfather’s fixed rocking chair.
Though neither has moved in a good many years
their presence revives former laughter and tears.
As children, my Grandfather placed us inside
the bright red wheelbarrow and off we would ride.
Down rough country tracks to the orchard we’d go
returning with plentiful apples in tow.
I once asked my Grandfather why it was red,
‘That was your Gran's favourite colour’ he said.
And red were the roses he laid by the side
of the grave where he mourned for his beautiful bride.
When Grandfather died, I just hadn't the heart
to cast on the scrap heap his rusty red cart.
And so by his rocking chair it shall remain
to take me on journeys down memory lane.
06/08/18
For Your Poetry Journal Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
She sits and rocks, so gently back and forth
Her chin leaning heavily on her chest.
In her hands she cradles, one flat waxed rose
And sighs as pain is swelling in her breast.
Her long grey hair, now tied up in a bun
Is what I see when entering the room.
I helplessly watch, her tear drops flowing,
They look like dew, upon the lonely bloom.
Slowly she looks at a picture nearby,
A glimpse of a smile creases her face.
Granddad with her, stand on their wedding day
With red roses, and a dress of white lace.
After the wedding, she said with a smile,
I took this one rose and waxed it back then.
Granddad had laughed at me wondering why.
I said, for the special memories when…….
And now this old rose, I hold in my hand,
Precious memories kept in my drawer
I pull it out remembering the day
When granddad loved me, and I loved him more.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.25.2014
Contest: Encounters with Flowers
5th
**Dedicated to those who preceded us and gave their blood, sweat and tears, so we can have the luxuries they could not**
The wind whispers, the wind whispers ----
the wind spreads her wings,
so all can sing her lonesome tune;
An old wind blows, older names gust
and whirl and chime,
remind those unfinished pacts of days gone by,
plea they deep in the night
when the arbor grates the house...
The withered barn is grey to dark
and the yard chasing with ghosts;
whisper in wind of forgotten oaths,
to freedom in day when sun is high,
justice takes pleasure even in shadowed realms,
even the gales cease their roar and great wars die
and the end shall end anew;
What in the wind, with tethered and sleepy heads,
do they ask, do they plead
and have us do?
Like the sun lights up the sky,
A little girl when she was born,
She snuggled right into our hearts
With heaven's sparkle in
Her eyes stole her papa's heart.
He became her nanny and cradled
Her to sleep, there was no bed
Comfortable enough,
but only in his loving arms
Until it was time for him to leave.
He was "mama" until she was two.
He would try to correct her;
"No, Papa."
She'd say, Mama with a smile.
He nourished her little mind with
Nursery rhymes and songs.
He taught her Math, English, and Spelling.
Taught her to ride her first tricycle,
To hold a baseball bat
And keep her eyes on the ball.
To kick and pass a soccer ball back and forth,
He cheered the loudest when she outran the boys.
Love between both of them unconditional.
She's now thirteen, with a smile that beams like sunshine
And eyes like stardust glistening, our greatest joys;
A garden scent where mums and sunflowers flow.
Having outgrew grandpa, it was grandmas turn;
Grandpa encouraged.
Her extra sunshine, giggles, laughter, and happiness
That come from deep inside when we shop
For party dresses, make-up, and
Once in a while a bookstore.
A photo-shoot on a footbridge or garden,
Lunches at Olive Garden or Gringo's for Mexican food,
And ice cold-fruity slushy drinks before going home.
She would text and still does to say,
You and grandpa or the best grandparents ever.
This little girl that that lights up the sky rules our hearts.
11/11/2019
Angels Sing
I hear them,
all the time.
When I pick up my child,
and hold her close,
her breath…
Harps; lovely,
faraway,
and distant.
When I go to my grandmothers,
and clean her kitchen,
all afternoon,
while she teaches me,
how to make,
cornbread and beans…
the right way.
Violins and soft flutes,
as she smoked for 60 years.
She is dying,
My heart is crying,
but the woodwinds are respectful…
of her years, if not my tears.
When I go to my loves grave,
and stand beside the small flag,
I can hear the band,
playing Rock Songs,
favorite one time hits,
and the Star Spangled Banner!
The vocals, on high,
Every word a blessing
to the family,
you left behind.
The freedom to listen,
The freedom to sing,
to laugh and pray,
about everything!
How I loved spending a week of the summer holidays with my grandparents. Gramps would come and pick me up in his old pick- up truck, dad would bundle my suitcase into the back and I’d be on my way. Gramps would whistle as we wended our way along the winding country lanes until we reached their stone cottage. Grandma would be waiting for us to appear at the door, she always be wearing her checked apron which was flecked with flour. She’d scoop me up in her arms, and carry me into the cosy kitchen where the aroma of cooling gingerbread lingered in the air.
wheat from the old mill
freshly ground into white flour
grandma’s been baking
I would spend many hours in the garden with gramps, in the spring I’d helped him to plant lots of vegetable seeds and now summer had arrived they were ready to be harvested. Gramps would give me a ride in his old wooden red wheelbarrow, the wheel would squeak as he pushed me along the uneven ground and I would squeal with delight when we went over the bumps. In the vegetable garden we would pick perfect pea pods that were fit to burst with juicy green peas, bright orange carrots and creamy cauliflowers which reminded me of brains. All the produce would be placed into the wheelbarrow and I would help gramps to trundle it along the path to the kitchen door. Grandma would be busy in the kitchen and I’d help by podding the peas ready for our evening meal. I loved the popping sound of the pods as I pressed them to release the shiny peas.
from a tiny seed
colourful vegetables grow
harvest time arrives
Many years have elapsed, and sadly gramps and grandma are no longer with us. My father inherited their little stone cottage, which was eventually handed down to me. I now spend happy hours in the garden with my own grandson, and I’m passing on the gardening tips that gramps taught me when I was a small child. The red wooden wheelbarrow which I loved riding in is long gone; but I replaced it with a sturdy one made of shiny red plastic. My grandson loves riding in it to the vegetable patch and I love to hear him squeal with delight as I once did when I rode the same bumpy path.
the red wheelbarrow
reminds me of my grandpa
precious memories
Fiction write
For Your Poetry Journal Poetry Contest
Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart a.k.a Broken Wings
7/28/18
MY PSW PROMISE
When you first arrived -
Your health was then fading
Your whole world was changing
I promised that I’d see you through.
When you first arrived
Your kids sold your house
You just lost your spouse
I promised that I’d see you through.
When you first arrived
You could barely still walk
You didn't want to talk
I promised that I’d see you through.
Now you’ve been here awhile
I haven’t found your smile
But I am not lying
When I say I’ll keep trying
I promised that I’d see you through
Now you’ve been here awhile
You know ME by my smile
You still talk about dying
I ask you to keep trying
I promised that I’d see you through
Now you’ve been here a bit longer
Look at you getting stronger!
You don’t trust all our staff
But I got you to laugh!
I promised that I’d see you through
You’ve been here a bit longer
In me you’ve grown fonder
You came out to do crafts!
Now we ALWAYS share laughs
I promised that I’d see you through
For it is now Christmas
I ask you your wishes
You say “ Well dear there’s just one!”
You smiled so loud, I smiled so loud
Before your speech had begun
You say “dear when we part”
“Please don't lose your heart”
“For your Heart is what’s seen me through!
I say “Don’t talk about dying!”
This time you weren’t lying
I said well what shall I do?
Your body was aching
My heart was breaking
I promised that I’d see you through
You said “oh my sweet love”
“For I’ll be just above”
You indeed were my friend now too
You squeezed my hand one more time
During our final goodbye
After you died, I sat down and cried
But one thing I knew was true
That oh my sweet love
Now my angel above
You Promised you see me through too
LINDSAY RIVERS
We’d gather on the old wooden porch
gramps would sit in his rocking chair
with wisps of smoke rising from his cigar
I’d snuggle up to gran
on the faded old swing seat
We’d sip lemon tea
and chat late into the night
catching up on the news since I’d last visited
I always loved to hear
the music of the wind chimes tinkling
as they danced on the warm summer breeze
My grandparents passed many years ago
but I can still hear that same music
as the wind chimes now swing on my porch
I hold in my heart
precious memories of times past
Wind chimes Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
FICTION POEM FOR CONTEST
8/28/18
I do not wish to tell you the truth
about this world. No. Not yet!
I do not wish to disclose the abyss
that civilisation has descended to.
This is not the time.
I shall protect and preserve your
innocence as long as time allows,
for in your eyes I see a hope
that I had lost many years ago.
your baby hands grasp my fingers,
that have changed since I was like you,
a result of my travails over many years.
The stories I read out to you are far too nice,
and even the wolf in your stories have a heart,
and show some kindness, but not in the
real world I live in. We shall talk about
butterflies and sing about stars, and many
rhymes that create a world that we would all like.
Let us stay here and enjoy these moments,
because when you grow up, you will know the
world that I know now.
Meanwhile, I can show you love and
the immense value of it, I can show you
what respect means- and that it is not reserved
just for a few- but to everything that you find in this world,
man, animal, bird, plants and many other creatures
that you will come to meet and know about.
Please do show respect to all that is there in nature- living or non living,
for everything is a product of eternal creation.
Choose morals and good values, over money,
learn to hurt no one, in action, thought or
through words.
Have true education that brings you closer to
creation in all its glory- and not learn things
that are a result of prejudice, lies, politics or half truths
paraded as spiritual knowledge through religion.
learn to understand yourself, and through that
knowledge- the true meaning of life-
Life is an opportunity to show love, compassion
and care! It is not to establish dominance and hatred.
With knowledge, dear little one,
you will be able to take on this world,
and not be fazed by the many situations,
that are so different from the stories
we read together.
One day, I am sure, you and your generation
will be able to put Humpty-Dumpty, together again!
I will be long gone by then, but in your
innocent eyes- I see hope.
Love
Grandpa!
From his bottle, Grandpa took a sip.
I gazed sleepily at his bottle ship.
Grandpa said that life could be so cruel.
Grandma said, your grandpa is a fool.
Grandpa ran his mouth from his chair and
Grandma said he always runs a fool's errand.
Grandpa said he sought the Holy Grail,
but he came up empty without fail.
Grandpa's poured out tales, an ocean deep.
The bottle ship, soon gone, and I, asleep.
Soon, I was a fisherman in a dream,
fishing for happiness in a saltwater bream,
The bream said, "I'll give you a little tip -
happiness, through your hands, will always slip".
I tried to catch freedom in a sailing fish,
but he flew away, along with that futile wish.
So, I tried to catch tuna, the fish of truth,
and came up with just a fallacy of youth.
Next, I looked for beauty in the marlin,
but she put me down, "Take a hike, darlin".
The fish of justice, my next angling goal,
took money while reading from a scroll.
Ah, so money must be the fish to grab -
but, sick and unloved, I picked up the tab.
Every fish and thing I strived for was a joke,
and one by one they all went up in smoke.
All the fish in my dream were just a school
to teach that searching is the errand of a fool.
When I awoke, Grandpa, too, was snoring,
Grandma said, "to himself, he's even boring".
I decided then, I would make my life at sea -
to catch anything, there'd be no guarantee.
I don't know anything worth anything anyway,
except the ocean's sand and salty spray.
I was one of many that had the priviledge
to live with my Grandparents. The lessons
I learned from them will remain with me for
the rest of my life. My Grandmother was a
very wise woman and her way of thinking
and explaining things made me listen.
I remember when one of my so called friends
set me up with with a blind date. A horrible
evening for me. When I got home and told
the story my Grandmother just laughed. Finally she ask me
"are you sure she is your friend", then she told me
the story of the rattlesnake.
Once there was a rattlesnake that got caught
in the freezing weather. A kindhearted man
found him and the snake said "please help me".
The man freed the snake and brought him into his
warm home and put him by the fire to warm.
The snake bit him and the kindhearted man
asked him "why did you bite me, I just saved your
life". The snake told the man, "you knew I was a
snake when you brought me in". I realized then
what she was talking about, choose your friends wisely.
One day I was helping this lady with some chores.
She was a very unfriendly woman and expected you
to work till you dropped. I told my Grandmother about it
and she said, "always remember, there are some people
that will work a willing horse to death". I remember
that lesson very well. My life was touched by this wonderful
woman in a way that I now tell these stories to my children.
Everyone must learn lessons, I pray you can learn them
from someone that lived during times that were hard, they
knew the meaning of hard times. The depression taught them well.
oh nirvaan ! truly dearly you ,
how should i tell you,
how much i love you,
i am your uncle,
you’re my nephew,
thats not all i have to tell you,
i can see in you,
astonishing wisdom and noble cue,
so i like to earnestly convey you,
in this world of disguise beauty,
nirvaan be the crown of integrity,
cherish the values of buddha,
knowledge, character and generosity,
and accomplish the ambedkar glory,
your parents nita and vivek,
working hard for your sake,
for you the platform is set,
to lead the rest,
born in wealthy country of opportunity,
don’t ever forget humility,
towards suffering dalit society,
strive for their prosperity,
your grand parents abhayanand and jhanaprabha,
devoted most of life as an ambedkarite,
be the reason for their pride,
by never giving up the quest,
that born american by birth,
you are equally devoted,
to spread the dr. ambedkar's word,
to make india pro-buddha,
oh nirvaan! truly dearly you,
buddha’s of past, present and future, bless you.
sadhu, sadhu, sadhu !
...rAHHUL
New Future Of The
Internet
Cable cost are up
too high
You turned to the
internet and so have
I
My Youtube channel
is the way to go
Now I can even make
video shows
I group the videos
to make a show
To bring you the
best of where I go
For kids the mower
and stove videos
I also have vehicles
and some scarecrows
Kids can watch from
morn til night
with lots of things
for a kids delight
Light houses, ship
building, and horses
too
Antique barn yards
and tractor pulls
just for you
Aviation, taxidermy,
and crafty wood
works
Viewwithme Youtube
has all the quirks
The historical homes
make a great tour
Contest and oxen
pulls are never a
bore
Animal friends, I
haven’t forgotten
you
I have horses, dogs,
cows and sheep too
Plenty of petting
pens and milking for
you
And a simple click
is all you have to
do
A lot of shows with
a mix for all
Like demolition
derby or a stunt so
tall
So if you dropped
the cable and you
have a need
I have three
channels for you to
see
By: Doris Anne
Beaulieu
https://www.youtube.com/user/Viewwithme
What’s it take for women to hate
their first born so long and so cold?
Sly smiles as he choked on the bait.
You sat in that one church so bold,
Blind and deaf to Love’s story told.
Among serpents in pews hearts won,
you died unbroken, mute and sold,
in how you treated your own son.
A father’s heart chipped out of slate.
Your measure given is twofold,
to regret forever too late,
brimstones are all that’s left to hold.
Your neglect was poured and it rolled
eighty-three years under the sun.
The Great White Throne decree behold,
in how you treated your own son.
How his innocence you both ate,
An orphan made in constant scold.
No mercy in your ways or fate.
In Matthew you read he foretold,
hypocrite’s wages to be tolled .
The grave’s sleep keeps remorse undone,
your legacy as I grow old,
in how you treated your own son.
If I am to breathe Heaven’s air,
your first grandson, when life is done,
I don’t expect to see you there,
in how you treated your own son.
---------------------------------------------
Contest: Not Your Average Ballade
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
04.15.14
My change is my rhyme scheme : 'ababbcbC ababbcbC ababbcbC dcdC'