Best Grandson Poems


Premium Member The Heirloom

I lay within a drawer so long
Loneliness was my heart's song

My diamonds never saw the light of day
Since granma's death,I'd been that way

Her grandson went a'courting strong
Maybe my exile now,will not last long

He brought home his bride-to-be
Glowing with pride,for his parents ,to see

He slipped me on her left hand,
They planned a wedding,oh so grand

That special day soon came around
A gold band nearby, I suddenly found

For many years we would not part
Such friendship heals the lonely heart

A day then arrived,of which I live in dread
Returned to a drawer,by a bed.

Premium Member Grandma Still Calls Your Name

I will always remember those uneven paths,
which led me to you - 
sorrowful reminder of promises I could not keep.
All you wanted was to sit with me for a while,
to talk and maybe try to make me smile.

Yet fate did not let us share the stars,
not even for one night - now there is only darkness.

I will never forget,
how you would sit under the sage green veranda,
sipping on your sweet tea, laughing and chatting away.
Many would sit and listen to your non fiction tales 
about when the air was clean and the fields were green,
childhood mischief and forgotten memories.

I'll always remember that glint in your eyes,
the warmth in your smile and that sui generis voice.
Especially when parades of birds would chirp at dawn
and when gazing at fireflies flickering under lanterns at dusk.

The veranda is now silent,
but grandma still calls your name.
The aroma from those abundance of petals still lingers, 
but your scent does not appear.
Berries still appear from your affluent olive trees,
but they shall never be hydrated by your hands.
Sweet jasmine still climbs up veranda poles,
maybe trying to reach heaven, to be with you.


Your last words will always live with me:

"Come sit with me, even just for a couple of  days."

but the next day you were gone...

Dedicated to my grandfather.
1930 - 18 August 2018.

Silent One
26 August 2018
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Poet Destroyer-It Will Be Ok

I know first hand the
pain in your heart,it
will be okay,soon you
can make a fresh start.

Your grandson Beal will
be watching over you,and
he knows everyday how
much you love him to.

Sometimes GOD does things
that we don't understand,
but he created your friends
to lend a helping hand.

Reach out to the people
that are here on the soup,
they help through hard times
and are a wonderful group.

There are to many to name
as this you know,
they will take you by the
hand and won't let go.

It will be okay and
soon you will see,
the new joy's in life
and how happy you'll be.

           You will get through this it just takes a little time.

                                                Love your poet friend,
                                                Colleen Marie Bono
                                                  April 11, 2013


Premium Member Well Played

The photo is of Brennan, my three and a half year old grandson. He's fully focused on everything he does ~ sports, art, Pixar cars...and yes, cartoon videos...however...read on.

A soccer player at the age of three
with a cherub face and dimpled knee
this child was born from my progeny

Intently focused on kicking the ball
his aim was straight and he didn't fall
"SCORE!" everyone laughed at the call

Four goals that day he proudly made
but two for the other team, I'm afraid
He didn't care. Nor did I. Well played!
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sometimes Love Is Not Enough

He loved his grandpa with all his heart
All the hugs in the world
Could not heal him
How we dreaded the time when
Memories would be all that’s left



Submitted on September 8, 2019 for contest SOMETIMES LOVE IS NOT ENOUGH sponsored by SILENT ONE  -  RANKED 3RD

Premium Member Little Man Grown








                                         Little Man Grown
                                            8/18/2023


                         Thirteen years ago, he picked up a bat!

                         In love, he knew where his future was at.

                         In Major League Baseball, you get it?

                         Six-feet, tall now, he can really, hit it!

                         But this Grandma, misses her little tyke, 

                         Who rode a tricycle and flew a silver kite.

                         He’ s a player on junior varsity these days.

                         And in other states, baseball with joy, plays!


Premium Member Circles

knee stiff unrelents
enjoying the year of rust -
oil can or bust
for i still give chase
as grandson circles

1/4/2021

Premium Member Jabberwacky

I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!

He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!

I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.

I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!


For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest

Premium Member Apology

Your apology
Changed me
Opened me up
Helped me to feel
Understand the gift of you
By illuminating my understanding
Of who you are
The we-ness of us

You broke down
The walls I had erected
To protect myself
There was no need to fortify 
Or keep you at my fringes
For your love
Is my completeness

Yesterday's sorrows
Invaded my heart
Caused me to restrict my voice
Holding back
I made the wrong choice
Denied what was important to me
Kept my heart at bay
Yet you opened me in a different way
As I listened to what you had to say

Your mind explored
Deep within me
beyond my words
It was my soul cry you heard
Bringing on a wave of tears
You listened
With more than just ears
Unpacking a treasure 
Dissolving shadowed fears
Revelatory images
From my broken mirror
I was comforted
By you being near

In the end
An apology
Was your greatest gift for me
It showed me a different way to be
I rose up from the muck
To a place where I could see
Where I touched and was thankful
For the you in we
Who helped me finally be
Emptied of those things I held back
The long lost 
restricted 
parts of me

Premium Member Following the Dinosaur Trail

babysitting Ricky
he shows me books on T-Rex. . .
ancient history

years later. . . watching
Jurassic Park on TV. . . 
my two kids and I

games played on a screen
my grandson plays the hunter. . . 
I’m the dinosaur

For SKAT's Dinosaurs Haiku Contest

Premium Member The Ruin

It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.

Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points of the compass.
Slit windows peered out of casements
through walls up to six feet thick.
The massive double oak doors
fifteen feet high and twelve wide
stood thrown open allowing glimpses
of the enormous courtyard beyond.

Battlements led to each round tower
that once housed the nobles.
Old battered forgotten furniture
grandly carved four poster beds.
A sword or two lay scattered
amidst the clutter and bird dropping.

Wide stone staircases meandered 
curling round and round the walls.
A gallery or two dotted here and there
perfect hiding places above the hall.
Some for musicians to play unseen
Their notes floating through the air
as below the dancers swept and strutted
as the ladies hooped dresses swirled.

Long tables once laden with food
stood a skiff with broken legs.
Wooden pint tankards higgledy piggledy
strewn about midst wooden platters.
Tattered standards limply lay motionless
against walls dotted with scattered torches.

The Lord of these lands killed in distant lands
leaving an infant son removed to the city
by his grieving mother who sought to forget.
Now ninety years later his grandson views
the devastation of years of neglect and vows
to return the castle to the glory of its heydays.

After three long years of often brutal work
removing shrubbery, moss and decay
Life starts to re-emerge Flags flutter
gaily high up on the battlements.
Chandeliers sparkle and the torches flicker
Tables once more groan with a feast of food
Happy shrieks of laughter fill the grand hall
And one would swear the castle wore a smile,     
as children played around the buttress's.

Premium Member 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

Premium Member 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.

Premium Member 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

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

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