Grandchildren Grandmother Poems | Examples
These Grandchildren Grandmother poems are examples of Grandmother poems about Grandchildren. These are the best examples of Grandmother Grandchildren poems written by international poets.
This is a classic story to share.
About the best grandmother ever
She was the person who truly cared.
Back when I was still a little girl
When nays are not that old
She buys me a wooden slipper.
Together we tend her garden
She's a good storyteller.
We are never bored with her.
She got our back when we needed her.
Every problem we have, she's always there.
She always carries her magic purse.
Inside there are lots of stored memories.
Bobbies pins, gums, receipts and more
Old notes, mirrors, even photos galore
Reading glasses and lipstick all in there.
Our grandmother has a magic wand
That makes us smell delicious air.
Cooking us our favorite meals to share
For every summer all her grandchildren
Will come to her house to gather
Our dinner is always full of laughter.
Everywhere she goes, I'm with her.
All the things that we do together
It is a memory that we'll always remember.
We all grew up with her love and care.
Sharing with every piece of her
The love she gave us is so rare.
In our hearts she stays with us through prayer.
When I became a grandmother
I realized that although I had loved my children
I had a greater capacity to love a grandchild whom I could send home
I did not have to discipline this one
I could be the treat-giver, the heroine, the champion
Without the aches and pains of requiring grandchildren to behave
for they would only be here a few hours, not all day
It was a game-changer for me.
No rules; just fun and frolic.
One of them wrote an essay about me.
She called me the AKG – awesome kid grandma
I could have never gotten away with this as a mother.
they swarm into our home like bees
seeking daisies, lilies, roses, and such
we throw sugary treats at them
allow them to commandeer the TVs
and the computers
Their parents roll their eyes
For we were never this way with “them”
We did not have to be
We were not their grandparents
The grandchildren want to live with us
They want to move in
They think we are better than their parents
Because we can spoil them completely for a few hours
Some want to spend the night
We have to say “not this time”
Because when they leave
we are exhausted and have to take a long nap
because our energy is completely gone
which is why God gives babies to young people
This house that was full of hustle bustle with 3 boys running everywhere,
And as well as 3 boys we had a lovely dog,
No central heating we'd get our heat from a burning log.
We didn't always have enough to eat,
But every day my boys were tidy and neat.
Some days they were good, other days they were bad,
But I always made sure I gave them all of the love that I had.
Each one has now grown, and has left this family home,
But they call me each day to make sure I am not all alone.
Now I have grandchildren and great ones too,
So I know I will be loved my whole life through.
I am so blessed to have great-grandchildren.
Four generations now upon our tree;
three girls- age four, one and a half, nine weeks.
How fortunate to have them now to see.
But, something I did not expect to feel;
my mind now dwelling on my last days when-
if even blessed to live one hundred years-
the three of them- just teenagers by then.
These gifts, for certain, God has given me;
was graced to see my children- theirs too, know.
But now, these younger ones grant little time
for me to love- watch them mature and grow.
My years now steer to life's finality;
Such painful thoughts I've come to realize.
As great grand-mom- the time is flying fast;
so much I'll miss- abrupt or late demise.
But, I must grasp my life as nearly full-
enjoying them for just a little while;
more empty if they never graced my world!
So, thank you, God- for brightening my smile!
As day progresses,
her spirits begin to sink
as if on command.
When did it begin,
this feeling of listlessness,
of being useless?
Not so long ago,
her days were filled with the joy
of being needed.
Now the grandchildren
she cared for daily for years
are grown, on their own.
She has no desire
to walk or write a poem
when she feels this down.
Do they think of her--
she hears a knock at the door.
The grandkids have come.
They lift her spirits
reminiscing, expressing
gratitude to her.
The next day, she walks,
cleans house, and writes three poems.
She can’t stop smiling.
Kind words are a sweet serum.
after the grandchildren left, I checked the room.
It was still tidy and neat, maybe they had used Zoom?
I checked the computer, but the keys were not hot.
They had been giggling in here, and I mean a lot.
My daughter looked in for one last good bye.
I hope they left everything intact she said with a sigh.
All looks great, I say, and it did at the first glance.
I did not see the closet until later, their dressing room chance.
I had spent hours putting all of my clothes up before they came.
Now most of the stuff was on the floor, it was not the same.
I know better now than to let them have the room and close the door.
I cannot walk through the clothing on my messed up floor.
But then again, it was my own fault in a way.
I wanted to get to see my daughter, and talk that day.
Their hours of closet fun gave us time for that.
So it was worth it, right? I said to my annoyed Siamese cat.
they were reading our minds, grandma
who? she asked, concerned
the aliens!
The ones from planet X474Z!
She knew they were having fun with their Uncle Larry.
He had a knack for making life fun.
She remembered when she asked him to watch his sister's children.
Now here he was, sitting around in an aluminum foil hat.
Not Planet X474Z! Grandma yelled.
She ran off screaming.
Delighting her grandchildren.
Completing their perfect day.
Crindolla the creep monster comes down from the Tennessee hills at night
you don’t want her wrath, she scratches and claws your good dreams away.
replacing them with nightmares you are not old enough to hear about.
the grandchildren looked at grandma who slowly shook her head “no”.
She used to ask Grandpa to stop telling them stories like this.
But now they were older and she knew she could not stop him.
His brown eyes had glistened with mischievous joy,
He looked like a young man again, not a seventy-three-year-old.
“What else will the Crindolla do, Grandpa?” Buying into the story.
Grandpa took some time thinking, which added to their relief.
When you are telling the truth you do not have to think this hard.
“Crindolla will leave warts on your brain, and add bugs to your heart.”
There is a tear in an old wedding dress
Hidden away in a box in the attack,
Covered in cobwebs,
And collecting dust.
The dress is carefully lifted from it tissue paper tomb
To be admired by the grandchildren
Who trace it’s silken edges with their fingers
They hold it up to their chest
And imagine what it would be like
To wear it.
The grandmother eyes the tear with distaste
She gently brushes off the cobwebs
And vows to repair the hole.
Somehow she will never get around to it.
The grandchildren are easily distracted,
They are more interested in the moose antlers
Hung on the wall,
And the large half covered painting of a naked woman.
Soon they run back down stairs,
The novelty of the attic beginning to wear off.
The grandmother watches them leave,
A weary smile on her face
She kneels in the dust of the attic,
As she pulls the faded dress to her chest.
Tears fall on the dress in the attic.
4/13/2023
Writing Challenge "T" words
Constance La France
I still see her in her white rocking chair.
Sharp hearing and her once, sharp vision going.
Rocking, dreaming of her grandchildren growing.
Their toys, left abandoned, at which with love, she stares.
Her heart broken from painful emptiness!
Those days of hugs and love, forever gone.
When, with those grandchildren, singing songs.
If only their pictures, brought back such happiness.
She knows full well these days are her very last.
She is a delicate shell, abandoned on life’s shore.
To her family, she’s a huge burden and more.
Midnight Angels carried her to where she would be
wanted, at long last!
1/8/2023
Home sweet home on Christmas day.
Children and grandchildren
come, but not to stay
Home smells of pumpkin spice,
gingerbread cookies,
ham and turkey in the oven
Yeast rolls rising,
flickering cinnamon candles,
oakwood burning in the fireplace
The taste of eggnog and wine,
all that brings Christmas
and everything nice
Piles of gifts under the fir tree
The grandchildren on their knees
Poor babies, hate they have to wait
They wonder when that would be
After you eat before you can see,
grandma said
Dinner blessing, songs of praise,
singing Christmas carols,
voices in different tones,
barrels of delightful fun
Grandma sore to the bone and drained;
leaded punch didn't help to ease the pain.
Treasured and happy moments
comfort from the day.
Merry Christmas to all Poetry Soup family
12/26/2021
I love my grandchildren so much it is nuts
I loved my children this much too, but it is a different love
This is a “I can be as crazy and friendly as I want” kind of love
It is a much more freeing kind of love
It cannot be explained; it must be lived
When you get grandchildren, you will understand
but not a minute before
I do not want a bunch of crying or sadness Grandma said.
Release a bunch of balloons and sing upbeat songs when I am dead.
We grandchildren all heard her say it a million times.
She sang it and wrote poetry about it and put it in rhymes.
I do not want a headstone, they are creepy she told us.
You can remember me other ways, but don’t make a fuss.
Play Puff the Magic Dragon. Don’t become grouchy grief buffoons.
So today we said good bye to grandma, releasing her balloons.
Just yesterday, a special day it was-
fifteen September, twenty-twenty-one;
like every year, my tears welled up because,
I miss you and those years we had such fun.
Grandma of three- you cherished them so much-
my little ones who filled your life with joy.
With kisses, hugs- you left your special touch
of love upon two little girls- one boy.
If only you could see them now, full-grown-
as many years since then have flown away.
All married with dear families- their own;
how proud you'd be just looking down today.
Age fifty-five, you met dear God above-
while thirty-two was I that dreadful time.
Your grandchildren then lost the tender love
and care you gave to them, deep and sublime.
Now, fifty years it's been since when you passed;
this time, fifteen September- lets me know
this milestone leaves me even more aghast;
through all these years- I still do miss you so.
September 16, 2021
Contest: Letter To My Mother
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon