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Best Grandson Poems | Poetry

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New Grandson Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Grandson poems are below this new poems list.

Grandson Landan by Tugaff, Ernilando
My Grandson Spent The Night by Krutsinger, Caren
Grandfather and Grandson by House, Bonnie
Walk with me , Grandson by Sergi, Ralph
You're Safe Beloved Grandson by Miller, Marsha
I Have a New Grandson by Forsythe, Curtis
My Grandson by Roberts, Donna
Living With A Mentally Handicapped Grandson by Kendrick, Sara
In honor of my grandson Adrian Michael by Moore, Michael Hawk
My Grandson Tanton by Donnelly Ellis, Joan

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The Best Grandson Poems

Details | Grandson Poem |

THEY DON'T BITE LIKE THEY USED TO

He sat there in his fav'rite chair, a blanket 'cross his lap 
And covering his snow white hair was his old fishing cap. 
I knew he could not talk to me since suffering the stroke, 
But still I sensed he could relate to ev'ry word I spoke. 
"I went and wet a line today ... down where you caught that cod. 
The biggest one you'd landed yet and though it was my rod 
I reckon he was yours all right ... but cod are far and few.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"The algae's building up again and stuffing up the creeks, 
Though at long last we had a fresh, the first in flam’in weeks. 
Pulled twenty stinking euros in, along with one old dew, 
But they had sores all over them, though still that's nothing new. 
The cotton farmers cry, "Absurd!  It can’t be from our spray." 
Perhaps the fish have just got aids from turning flam'in gay. 
Its getting pretty sad all right, but what can one bloke do.   
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
"McDonalds seems to be the go and good old KFC 
And eating yellow-belly is a flam'in rarity.   
Your grandson won't go fishing as he says it's just for nerds 
And when I take the missus we just end up having words. 
I really miss our fishing trips, your company was swell 
And by the mist there in your eyes you miss them dad as well. 
I heard you sold your tinny mate, your outboard motor too.  
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to." 
 
They're introducing fingerlings and giving that a shot, 
But duckweed takes the oxygen which kills the flam'in lot. 
The droughts have had their toll as well and one thing that's for sure; 
I can't see in the future dad a remedy or cure. 
So mum's ducked down to Salty's mate and I would dare a punt 
She'll come back with a feed of fish before you say Rex Hunt. 
I guess we'll have to wash it down with some of your home brew. 
They don't bite like they used to dad.  They don't bite like they used to."

Details | Grandson Poem |

As I watched my daughter playing with her son, I couldn't help but see myself in her. I still think of her as a child, but I guess parents always see their grown children as babies. My daughter is a reflection of me in many ways. She calls me her hero, but I'm the one who is proud of her. A tear rolls from my eye as I remember all the struggles we faced. Growing up as the child of a single parent, her life was a harsh reality.

I didn't know how to care for you, or how to handle your cries.
I wasn't sure what to do until I looked into your innocent eyes.

The first time you woke in the night, you scared me half to death.
My heart was filled with such fright, I could hardly catch my breath

I fixed you a bottle of warm milk and rocked you until sleeping.
I touched your hair, soft as silk. I held you close in safe-keeping.

My daughter left for a meeting in the middle of an atrocious storm. Heavy rain had been falling all day with outbreaks of thunder and lightning. "Love you both," she said, as she hugged me and her son, then rushed out. I was left with my adorable grandson. Cuddling him close and watching him play reminded me of times when my daughter was his age. Life had been a struggle: she had been a lively infant but I'd almost lost her from a series of convulsions. When she was nine, she decided to run away, but only got as far as the front yard. Then there were the terrible teens with the silly boyfriends I had to threaten. She had matured into a beautiful young woman, a wife and mother, and an influential and inspirational adult. Watching her grow up had been filled with trials, but also with much love and delight - I would not have changed a thing.

You were nearly lost to me, and I would've never known
the angel you would be, through the years you've grown.

Your younger years we spent together flew by much too fast.
A boyfriend dressed in leather? Thank God that's in the past.

Who would you become, when into a woman you were grown?
One day to be a mum? Would you have a child of your own?

My grandson fell asleep in my arms. I didn't want to put him down, so I held him close like I used to hold my baby girl. He looked so peaceful and innocent. I was shaken from my reverie by the wind as it rattled the windows and drove sheets of rain against the panes. With each flash of lightning and crash of thunder, my worry grew. I gazed at the clock and realized my daughter had been gone for more than five hours. She wasn't answering her phone. The intensity of the storm filled me with a sudden fear, just like the fear I had when she was young.

baby in my arms
I will keep you safe from harms
the rage of all storms

now I fret and stew
daughter, what's become of you
what more can I do

I felt so helpless, trapped in the house with the baby. My palms were starting to sweat so I put him down in his crib. Even if he wasn't here I wouldn't know where to look for her. I started pacing, emotions switching between fear and agitation. I started to panic. What if something had happened to her? What would I do without her? All those fears I had when she was a child came back to me. I had to get hold of emotions. I couldn't panic. Then the door opened. "Sorry, Mum. The weather was too bad to drive home so I met a friend for coffee, and my phone lost its charge." A sense of relief flooded through me. I held her close, just like I did when she was a child.

You were my angel as a little girl
Ribbons to tame your unruly curls
Then you grew up much too fast
into a lovely woman, a bonny lass.

Now you have a child of your own.
Before you know it, he'll be grown.
A grandson to hold upon my knee,
Thank you, daughter, for loving me.

Freestyle Haibun: Prose, Couplets, Senryu and Rhyme.
Collaboration between Lin Lane and Silent One
December 10th 2015

Details | Grandson Poem |

December Sky

I sit, with deep contentment, by the window 
And watching the young evergreen out-shadowed
The oak tree, where love once etched on it, I sowed 

My time quietly slipped into the picture
Between my only son and his firstborn son
Between the past, the present, and the future

I have the feelings, but no words are spoken
When the words are spoken, my own feelings gone
Hidden for life, in my sagging rocking chair

I felt the late afternoon cold breeze, touching 
White-bearded face, with the autumn scent tingling 
While the golden sun has faded, into gray

I saw the charmed naked ladies, still smiling
In a bright purplish pink, for there are no snows
Soon, the land will be white, when tomorrow bows

As I eagerly wait for December sky
To glow, with sensational firecrackers’ lights
In my arms, my grandson awaken from sleep

No words spoken, but, has the smile on his face
In him I saw myself, in my father’s arm
Now I know, December’s coming, to give grace

Details | Grandson Poem |

The Hero in Me

I lie and watch the clouds go by; 
the birds flying high… 
wondering if Batman and Robin, Spiderman, 
or Superman was once a kid like me. 
Did they ever doubt what they 
would grow up to be? 

I pretend with my sister that I am 
Spiderman… 
Climbing walls and jumping from 
my bed, finding a plan, 
to set her free 
showing her the hero in me. 

I rescue the dog, from my little brother, 
when his ears get yanked… 
then I’m bathed with lots of kisses 
and I know I’m thanked. 
Did Batman have a little brother, 
to inspire… 
or did Robin have a big brother 
to admire? 

No denying Superman was the toughest 
in my belief. 
Muscles of steel could stop the meanest 
thief. 
Flying all around the world 
never getting tired, 
he was the hero who my dad admired. 

Stopping trains saving ladies in distress, 
climbing walls swinging from buildings 
regardless… 
of criminal ravings. 
These are the heroes I have grown 
to love; 
and the hero in me is all of the above…

Copyright © 2008 By Caryl S. Muzzey


This was written for my four year old grandson who is simply crazy about spiderman.

Details | Grandson Poem |

Death by Cartoon Sponge

        "More Spongebob, Mimi"--this I hear
        a dozen times a day.
        How much more can I stand to see?
        No more of this, I pray!

        I turn the TV off and run
        to fetch his favorite toys.
        When he says, "Spongebob's much more fun,"
        I must seek other ploys.

        "A Krabby Patty's what I'd like,"
        he says of noontime's meal.
        The common lunch I fix the tyke,
        he eyes with little zeal.

        The Krusty Krab invades my sleep,
        and Squidward haunts my dreams.
        Those creatures from the ocean deep
        won't leave me be, it seems.

        Can cartoon sponges start a trend
        of death by kiddie show?
        If SpongeBob's laugh can cause the end,
        I'll be the first to go.

rhyme scheme abab

July 26, 2016

Details | Grandson Poem |

Black History

The past
I am a black prince
Who use to rule over a kingdom 
But now my people and me are enslaved 
Force to pick the white mans cotton 
I see my brother and sisters 
Being whipped and branded like cattle 
They think we are cattle 
So we are treated like cattle 
But my people dream and sing of the future
Where we are free from our shackles 
The future 
I am the black preacher 
Who has been freed from his shackles
But now fighting for our rights 
So my son and daughter
Can go to a pool and not be separated
By the racial line.
Or when they go outside to play 
They don’t have to worry about the KKK
Trying to hang them from a tree branch
That is the reason I fight that is why I want equal rights
For there can be a better tomorrow

The better tomorrow
I’m the son of the preacher
Who was the grandson of the black prince.
Here saying that enslavement and segregation
Is over
An now the only problem remains is
The fact that we are killing each other
Over money and women
This makes no sense
Have we as a people suffered enough?
Have we shed enough blood?
So I ask you
Put the gun down spread the word 
Tell our brothers tell are sisters that the 
300 years of enslavement and segregation is over
We have our black president 
We have the power 
To show the world that
We as a people are united

Details | Grandson Poem |

William Kite, Sergeant Peppers Lonely Heartclub

   ~~~Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite~~~
An all round performer was Mr William Kite
He trained and rode horses, but also walked the rope tight
He worked for Pablo Fanqué the Wells Circus owner in 1842
But his work gave inspiration for John Lennon to do.

Mr William Kite would never have dreamed.
That his skills as a performer would inspire a song theme
As he performed on his head, while balancing on a rope
A trumpet in his mouth, and he played a damn fine note.

When he was with John Sanger, who was equestrian minded
William appeared for a spectacular night, the poster has reminded
The celebrated horse called Zanthus was even there
With Mr William Kite to perform - boy what a pair

This poster impressed John Lennon so...
It inspired him to write about William and the show
Being for the Benefit of Mr Kite, the poster does show
Inspired quite a few lyrics as all Beatles fans will know.

What they may not know - but I am impressed 
There is a man called David with whom I am blessed
He is the great great grandson of William by whom Lennon was inspired
But better than that David is my half brother it has so transpired.


 The Beatles Album Cover is "Sergeant  Peppers Lonely Heartclub" which potrays the poster of Mr Kite

Details | Grandson Poem |

The Sea Hag and the Funky Monkey

She came out of the sea at twilight
Weak and trembling, bent with age
Her hair entwined with seaweed
The pounding surf a watery stage. .

She stood awhile and listened
then with the most frightful groan
Beaconed with a bony finger
To her minions in the foam..

Out of the waves they scrambled
Creatures from the dark and deep
Unleashed this one dark night
From their prison did they creep..

The danced the Funky Monkey
while the stars shown overhead
With abandon celebrated freedom
From their dark and watery bed...

So had the sun and stars aligned
Just this once in untold years
To break the spell they suffered
And dry their unending tears..  

And with the light of faintest dawn
They turned from their heavenly shore
All crept back into the thrashing sea
And their likes were seen no more



Co-written with my grandson Jordan..9 yrs old

Details | Grandson Poem |

Silver strands

Tuppy

Silver strands silver bands and the rings on her hands,
Her hair was the colour of grey,
Eyes far away, with the thoughts of her day,
As her grandson an audience sought,
I was there that day, with an empty head thought,
just a boy, but loved this I say.

As I looked at her troubled eyes,
A Catholic she’d once been married,
 To a Church of England, man called John,
so now she was surely harried,

Excommunicated by a priest on that day,
So she caught up a rifle, pulled off a few shots,
Bounced bullets, as he was running away.
The only pleasure to be got,
Anyway.

With polio born she couldn’t stand,
But dragged herself onto a pony,
She did eventually walk,
But she walked in the path of the lonely.

	Susan Burch
Contest Name	Silver Strands

Details | Grandson Poem |

My Visitor

Something catches me form the corner of my eye
No one's home but I swear someone just walked by
There stands a man just beyond the lower stairs
Startled yet I'm not afraid as he looks at me and stares
I wonder who this presence is who's invading my home
He moves shooting a glance at me and proceeds to roam
Who's this strange man in the shadows Is he watching over me
Is there someone else he might be here to see
Once in a while he shows up to let me know he's here
I wonder if he visits  to see someone he holds dear
Is he just letting me know we are not alone
Is he lost and wandering trying to find his way home
This presence some may call a ghost who visits me
My grandson calls him Jack as he can also see
The ghostly presence shows himself just once in a while
When he chooses to drop by he always makes me smile

Details | Grandson Poem |

ITS ALL ABOUT CATS

IT’S ALL ABOUT CATS

Cats with claws stalk,
sitting at the table.
Cats purr and walk —
ready and able.

“Meow...more milk please,”
jumping on each chair.
With wry smiles they tease.
With grand eyes they stare.

1/30/2018
Contest: A Funny Poem For A Seven Year Old

*My two grandsons love cats. Especially the oldest,
who I think would become one, if it were possible!

Details | Grandson Poem |

Grandchildren

B eautiful boy 
R ough at play
Y oung and curious
C uddly and loving 
E normous energy


GRANDCHILDREN


A ngel from heaven
L oving and loyal
I rresistibly  huggable 
A dorably cute
N eat and outgoing
A  pple of our eye

Details | Grandson Poem |

The Soccer Players

With Henry in my arms, we watched
The soccer players kick.
He laughed at every move they made -
Deliberate or quick.

He couldn't understand, of course,
(He's thirteen months of age)
So what got to his funny bone
Is very hard to gauge.

What seems to me quite ordinary,
Filtered through his eyes,
Becomes a new adventure
Simply bursting with surprise.

So as we watched, his all-out giggles
Filled me with delight.
The time I spend with Henry
Makes the world seem fresh and bright.

Details | Grandson Poem |

My little grandson

              “My little grandson”                    Nonet Poem

          I have a little grandson named Lynn
	    who will be three years old this month 
	      he is too smart for his age 
	         speaks English and Myanmar
	             both at the same time. 
	               He likes to wear
                          blue jeans and
                              cowboy		   
                                 boots

Details | Grandson Poem |

Hugs

Teenage Girls clad in the latest fashions,
Do it whenever they meet,
Grown men aren't afraid to show some passion,
When their team's comeback is complete,
They can say hello, they can say goodbye,
And anything inbetween,
If you open your arms and crack a smile,
There is nothing that a hug cannot mean.

Details | Grandson Poem |

The Grandson

It started with his dad, you see;
Those many years ago.
At first there was just gramps and she,
But then he joined the show.

Raising him into a man 
Was something to behold.
Many days it seemed the 
Only thing they did was scold.

But yet there were those other times,
When what they felt was pride.
To glimpse the man he would become:
What made him up inside.

And now there is his little son;
Their grandchild much adored.
God's guarantee that as they age,
They never will be bored.

He is the apple of their eye,
Who fell close to the tree.
They see the promise in him now,
The world will someday see.

A little boy who's growing up
To run and laugh and play.
Mischievous, loving, happy child,
Who changes with each day.

His dad was their first blessing,
And now for goodness sake;
Their proud to have a grandson
Who's just frosting on the cake.


© 2015 Diane Lefebvre

Best Grandson Poems | Poetry

New Grandson Poems

The Best Grandson Poems

Grandma still calls your name

THE HEIRLOOM

Poet Destroyer-It will be ok

Well Played

Jabberwacky

Apology

The Soldier's Way

THEY DON'T BITE LIKE THEY USED TO

The Ruin

Following the Dinosaur Trail

Sweet Child Of Mine

December Sky

The Hero in Me

Death by Cartoon Sponge

Black History

William Kite, Sergeant Peppers Lonely Heartclub

The Sea Hag and the Funky Monkey

Silver strands

My Visitor

ITS ALL ABOUT CATS

Grandchildren

The Soccer Players

My little grandson

Hugs

The Grandson