Best Granny Poems
Standing by her hospital bed, I didn’t feel the pain
Instead, I felt sorrow that she looked so very frail
Like a rose that’s been sitting in a vase far too long
Slowly losing petals that leave it looking like death
And I knew that it was her time to leave this place
Her strength had always been apparent to her family
She didn’t ever stop except to take a slow drag from
Her Winston, something many believed would kill her
Yet, she didn’t die from smoking, but from living longer
Than she might have expected to live when she was young
As I stared down at her closed eyes and remembered
Dread seeped through my veins, making me tremble inside
Leaving me with a melancholy that would lead me toward
Depression, then despair, and back into fear and tears
That rain down on my soul like a shower pours over the earth
I was drowning in my own words which would not come
Words of compassion and warmth, wailing out a echo of hope
That she might live through this mysterious illness that left her
Feeling like she couldn’t even open those bright expressive eyes
Which had always shown with compassion and insight and wisdom
When I left her there that night with a light kiss on the cheek
I didn’t know it would be the last time I would see her here
On this dismal ground where she had left me to live my life
Despite her death and the grim reminders of her beautiful spirit
Which color me in hues of blue, like her eyes, fiery blue
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW(6),any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
July 6, 2020
Granny had a yellow cat Matty Sand-arum
She was fond of Cherry Blossom and bubblegum
Cherry ached in her tummy
Bubble is double balmy
She yelled out scummy gummy and fell into the scum
Granny had a yellow cat/Limerick©Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty 18 November 2014
Mornings, light and smiling
Coffee brewing, black
Meat frying in a cast iron skillet
Grease, flour and milk, stirred together
Gravy poured over steaming biscuits
Granny’s breakfast – typically
Grown to life from a wood cookstove
Noon, gentle sunshine
Picking cornfield beans, breaking
The beans and then washing them
Placing them into a vessel, a pot
Seasoned with pork - fatback
Cooking over the sweaty heat
Of that stove where oak and birch
Smoked with flames of dripping
Perspiration falling from faces
Who were encouraged to listen
With wistful wishes warming
Hearts who know Granny’s garden
Will sustain the whole lot of a family
From the Appalachian mountains
Evening, flickering fireflies
Dancing through the night
Flavoring the heart with joy
As the porch swing squeaks to life
Reminding the heart that loves
Lives here, amid the beans and trees
The biscuits and pork drippings
Grease for gravy, seasonings
And the mind just a bit gladder
Because there is this devotion
Family with foundations of love
Brought to life by His presence
It is their faith that awakens
The mind, the heart, the soul
To the light that survives the test
Of time, of memories, of sighs
In the air of reminiscence, memory
Breathing music through the night
Singing praise to the God of love
The reason for all that delights
The wonder of a prayer satisfied
To the memory – this is the good life!
u CHOOSE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anthony Biaanco
Theme chosen - 15.Love
April 9, 2022
(to the tune of "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" from the musical "Mary Poppins")
When grandma got her mobile phone
At first she struggled so,
But when she reached new milestone
She couldn’t let it go.
She face-timed everyone all day
In her town and abroad;
She simply had a lot to say,
Got neither vexed or bored.
Chorus:
MY GOOGLEGRANNYSNAPCHATCRAZYINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
Days and nights on internet
Have made her fast and witty.
No more home-made cakes and pies
And that is quite a pity!
GOOGLEGRANNYSNAPCHATCRAZYINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
I did bend backwards, so to speak,
To get my grandma back,
But she got mad, called me a freak -
Gave me a hearty whack.
When Gran Aid Services arrived
She played cool and proper;
She lied and said that I contrived
One big, blatant whopper.
Chorus:
MY GOOGLEGRANNYSNAPCHATCRAZYINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
Days and nights on internet
Have made her fast and witty.
No more home-made cakes and pies
And that is quite a pity!
GOOGLEGRANNYSNAPCHATCRAZYINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
But then I got a simple plan –
An eye goes for an eye.
Although easier said than done
I baked an apple pie.
I made a cake and cookies too,
A cup of tea as well,
Before my selfish granny knew,
I ate it all myself.
Chorus:
MY GOOGLEGRANNYSNAPCHATCRAZYINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
Days and nights on internet
Have made her fast and witty.
No more cakes and pies for her,
And that is quite a pity!
GOOGLEGRANNYTRADEDMEFORINSTAGRAMANDTWITTER
I am the crocheting granny,
the one who carries ample hooks
within a floral bag and yarn-a-plenty,
making baby blankets from how-to books.
I am the crocheting granny,
who looks forward to learning new stitches,
creating patterns of colorful design,
until I stumble upon some glitches.
I am the crocheting granny
who frequents all the hobby stores,
searching for sales to satisfy my need
as I walk briskly through their doors.
I am the crocheting granny
who enjoys attending baby showers,
sharing my hand-made gifts with delight
which my fingers worked for hours.
I am the crocheting granny,
finding delight in all my projects,
spanning over the years,
cherishing my hobby objects.
December 14, 2017
So, granny, they tell me you died yesterday
i wish i could have known you better,
i wish i knew the stories you had,
of love and loss, of joy and sorrow,
I could sit for hours, listening, and learning
A sweet old lady, with a long history, how beautiful is that?
I was busy, struggling, with my own story.
Wow, i do have regret, a loss,
i guess, i should have reached out to you,
been your student,
what did you have to teach?
I hear you were angry,
9 children, dozens of grandchildren and theirs
no one visited you, showed you love,
not even me.
So, you are in the afterlife now,
released, and let go of the tired body.
Our tears are with you, in our loss,
We all loved you, but were too wounded by life,
to see you, to know you, to be close.
The love we should have had.
I painted you, sitting in purgatory,
surrounded by the angels of healing,
I ask the angels to hold you gently as you cry,
and nurture your wounds from this life
The colors of regret and anger,
dissolving,
into acceptance and love.
we all need you to heal quickly
and be our guide.
A voice from heaven
teaching us to love more, give more and forgive.
We all give thanks to the life you lived,
and the lives you brought into this world.
We will all appreciate each other more,
a little more giving, a little more love,
all inspired by the life you lived and left.
Folks say his mother used to read
Stories of ancient warriors indeed,
To give birth to a child as brave
As a legend beneath a historic grave.
'Achilles'- She used to call her son
And he grew up, fascinating like none,
Granny still zealous, planted ardor aboard
His mother gifted him a fervent sword.
Ninja granny took him to a wonderland
Where he was hailed as a warrior grand,
Every day he read of kings in wars
Every night he escaped worldly doors.
That night he was woken by an alphabet
It was an 'A' shivering in cold sweat,
"Achilles our savior, we need thee
To release our inmates and set them free."
Arose Achilles to the land of words
Where stories flew past like birds,
Colored houses of phrases spoken
Missing alphabets from windows broken.
The morning sun made up of a sentence
Pleaded Achilles for their independence,
Leaving A and C all had been caught
Their land left with stories that fought.
Achilles swayed his little gifted sword
Headed to the prison he'd never explored,
Oh what courage flowed in his veins
Passionate to free alphabets of chains.
The prison of punctuation was guarded
By creepy spelling mistakes disregarded,
He fought valiantly and killed them all
Released alphabets from the prison wall.
He met the King of Punctuation Marks
Demanded to know why he fired sparks,
"Achilles the brave! We hail thee
We were ruined by an unknown flea.
But now that you have saved our land
I plead you to let our message expand,
When people in the world pen their tales
Let them punctuate or the train derails.
As long as punctuation stays alive
Their stories will flutter and strive,
Or else mistakes might attack us again
Their follies will make our enemies gain."
Brave Achilles narrated to granny on his way back,
Tired, dozed off dreaming of another exciting track,
He mumbled "Hold on! I come to save the world afar";
Granny closed his book, tomorrow The Alexander or a Czar?
Poet's Note: Experimenting with the funny granny series, this is my first tale. You can read the second one here:
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/ninja_granny_ii_-_exuberant_colors_1261206
May 17, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE L ,any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~Winner: 3rd Place
Life is plainly, totally, undeniably, unfair!
Looking in the mirror I screamed, “who stole most of my hair?”
I was never Rapunzel, a svelte heroine, locked in a tower,
But who dare turned me into Quasimoto’s twin, short and dower?
How can I go dancing with my silver amour, Sir Harry Walker?
Ghastly obscene ….they would heartily laugh and be gawkers.
But, I cannot lie, I desire to be out and have some wild hijinks.
Dressing in high boots, short skirts and you bet, lots of winks!
I am bored to death, with this “growing old gracefully” stuff!
It is dull and droll and far, far worse than chewing snuff.(yuck)
Alas, oh sorrowful me, I even failed the eye test at the DMV!
And yet, I can spot a handsome hunk,who is six foot three?
I even penned a steamy poem for this Christmas Eve!
I laughed so hard, I nearly slipped to the floor on my knees
There is great beauty and joy in growing old, many say??
I declare~plastic surgery, new hair and throw my walker away!
Dedicated to Deb M.. thank you so much!
You made me laugh today. You lightened my soul!
Many thanks, Pangie xxxxx
12/11/2024
Mama and Granny
Herded children through the kitchen
Out the screen door, to the yard
Where we wouldn’t be underfoot
Cousins all brown from summer
Sun baking soft skin and erasing
The loneliness of winter from
Hillbilly faces – cotton topped
Tresses white since birth, curled
Mama and Granny
Yelling loudly from the kitchen
“it’s time to eat – come get it”
Little bellies churned eagerly
Fried chicken – a leg I chose
Mashed taters and gravy
Biscuits from soft, white dough
Baked in a wood cookstove
Mama and Granny
Piled plates full of food
For hungry eyes who dove in
Before grace could be voiced
After pie and cake and everything
We could partake of – Sunday dinner
Washed down with sweet tea
And a bottle of love, homegrown
Happy and hopeful - we had no fears
Mama and Granny
Murmured quietly, taking turns
Rubbing plates and pots and pans
With the Joy that was Granny’s detergent
After dinner, we played – screaming
With pleasure that comes from
Sharing hearts and lives
With the ones you call family
The gifts from God’s loving nature
She sat on her front porch swing,
Moving backwards and forwards,
As a heavy bag of cornfield beans
Sat next to her, awaiting stringing
I sat on the floor, engrossed in words
That colored her a soft blue and purple
Colors of whispers that linger inside
Smiling from their wise hues of insight
She began to string the beans, dropping
First the string into the trashcan, then
The broke bean into the massive bowl
That sat there, filling to the brim with beans
I listened to her words of kindness drifting
Through the breeze that cooled the warm
Summer air with breaths of compassion,
An embrace from the sweetness of her grin
She gradually filled the bowl and emptied
The weighty bag so that it was collapsed
And slowly pulled long puffs from a Winston
Her favorite cigarette, her one and only addiction
I sang a silly tune of some sort to her as she
Worked, compelling her to place her hands up
Covering her ears in amusement and truth
As my voice was definitely lacking any rhythm
She labored with her garden the way I might
With some poem that seems to long for my touch
Whispering freshness into the heart and soul
As she graced us all with fresh vegetables
Granny tries rap
Wears ballcap back
"Yo Pap you dap"
When the apple dropped on Sir Newton's bean,
He cursed naughty words making quite a scene!
He was somewhat placated,
When to him 'twas related,
He'd found gravity, wholly unforeseen!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
A granny I might be
A granny I might be
But I can always see
My hair is growing grey
My shape is quite okay
I still love my fashion
I guess it’s still my passion
I always look quite smart and dressy
And very rarely I look messy.
I’m older, but I'm still a lassie
Sometimes me, I do look classy
I would not change a single day
Not ever, not in any way.
How the years they will turn out
Well who knows, I’ll wait that out.
Vera Duggan 13 September 2014
Oh granny, how I wish I'd known you.
All i have is a frame,
your face lay within, clean and still, I stare;
Your thick, black hair and drowsy eyes,
Frowned lips wrinkled, a smile to see I wish,
Your failing skin brown and dull and creased, beautiful to me
My heart yearns your presence near,
in flesh and in voice, to utter things untold,
and roads in life should I
know
Grief fills me as I stare,
fingers pressed upon your glassy face,
The build of a tear to fall
Oh granny, how I wish you were here
The distant night stars
Spread out like the fireflies
Granny watches me.