Grandmother Poems | Examples of Grandmother Poetry

To the strongest Woman I’ve ever known, The brightest light in every Room, Church, Hall and building That she Ever entered. To the strongest Woman I’ve ever known, You never knew How you lit up A room, people’s lives And their souls. To the strongest Woman I’ve ever known, You were strong till Your final days, Inspiring everyone whose Paths crossed with your own. To the strongest Woman I’ve ever known, I’m...

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I wish you knew her When You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown was running I wish you would’ve seen her that night Beaming with pride At her grandchild who had been cast in the role Of Snoopy as a freshman. I wish you knew her When she’d dress all up in her Packers gear on a Sunday Even when they were having...

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cherry blossoms have gone tulips sway in the garden breeze sobo gazes one hand on her hip ...

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Justice alert An Old Lady with strong Faith Knows how to carry to great length Didn’t have to spin to turn into Wonder Woman Wonder Woman Grandma carried every day A Mugger thought an Old Lady being an easy prey He Forget to kneel and pray The Mugger lurked and looked for an opportunity It turned out to be a defeated reality He attacked...

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TIMELESS BEAUTY AND GRACE wrinkles and gray hair aging bones creak and crackle wisdom in her eyes ...

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TWO MEASURES OF KINDNESS While removing the tick from my forehead, Granny sang a hymn in a low, sweet voice. I watched her lovely face, not the burning match. Before the hymn ended, she’d removed the tick I thought I’d die from. I can’t remember the song, but hear her voice still, a well of crystal, clear water, a prayer. I remember her hands, two...

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Why do we call the good old days, good? Grandma was always talking, talking about the days that had passed. I wonder if they were really that good, or does our mind play a trick on us? Grandma loved sitting on her porch, looking out over her land in her rocking chair. Now the old rustic white fence, is falling down...

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My grandmother's hands knew things mine have forgotten, how to make bread rise, how to hem a dress so it would last. She saved everything: buttons in mason jars, stories in the space between stirring and serving, love in the way she said my name. This is what we lose when we move too fast, the slow art of remembering,...

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The Queen Of Emeralds. Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love! Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms. Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea. Thy mothers passion is of furious pain...

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The Queen Of Emeralds. Thy mothers name is victoria! So full of strength and love! Thy mothers voice is that of a songbird, spirit is of queen of storms. Thy mothers net is one of safety, not just for me and my siblings, however strong enough for all children of the sea. Thy mothers passion is of furious pain...

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As years go by the more I think About how one minute I was 5 and now I'm 28, You watched me grow always been by my side, Now to think your still here making sure we get by, Working, and working hard for our family to thrive, To think you are our rock, Your like our glue that sticks us...

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In the book nook I found it— a face no bigger than my palm, leathered and silent, its eyes forever pressed shut against whatever it had seen. Grandma said a missionary friend brought it back from somewhere halfway around the world. On the dining room window sill, a dozen squat green strangers kept their spines to themselves— silent travelers from the Southwest when my dad was still...

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Breaking the silence inside my brain,wondering if I'll ever see you again The falling of glass the breaking of sound Knowing That you're nowhere to be found My heart breaks for you, aches for my grandma far apart but not far gone from my heart ,A granddaughter grieving of loss this evening the grandma of love...

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Sadly my grandmother is not on earth and many that shaped this my feelings rose to a fever pitch thinking about their love for us my summertime vacation time to the country every year traveling from the city to the family estate house to house aunts and uncles differemt places where my grandmother and...

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It was grandma’s last winter. I watched her hurry outside to split enough wood so her old kitchen stove would burn through the new storm she felt gathering along the horizon, its first eiderdown already afloat on the twilight settling over her white garden. From nowhere a dog tormented by visions plunged through the drifts and laid ahold of her leg. She hacked half through its neck and crawled...

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