Granddaughter Grandmother Poems | Examples
These Granddaughter Grandmother poems are examples of Grandmother poems about Granddaughter. These are the best examples of Grandmother Granddaughter poems written by international poets.
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,
the patient work
of passing things down.
Her kitchen was a kind of church
where recipes were prayers,
and every meal
a small act of keeping
the world together.
Now, I try to learn
what she never had to teach:
how to make something
with my hands,
how to turn memory
into bread,
into words,
into something
that will feed
the ones who come after.
Each story I tell my daughter
is a vote against forgetting,
a way of saying:
this mattered,
we mattered,
you matter too.
Grandma, only you can make me feel all right.
Only you, when you hug me so tight.
Your smile makes the moon shine bright.
Only you can light the darkest night.
"She reassured me with an unfamiliar line"
That sweet, sweet Granddaughter of mine.
Now I am old and frail and insecure.
No longer the person I was before.
Her words '' I will adore you,
Til all the trees turn blue,
Until rain falls upward, back to the sky,
And we are together, you and I.''
I wanted a larger sombrero, the spoiled child said.
Weird since she had a ten-gallon hat on her head
That’s all you are getting, her mother said sternly.
But she kept grousing and griping, this child named Hernly.
Her grandmother said “Fine, I will take the hat as my own.”
Hernly had such a fit, she was soon all alone
Except for her old-school grandmother who had a flyswatter.
What are you doing? Asked the naïve spoiled granddaughter.
i miss the way she looked at me
i miss the way she held my hand
i miss the softness of her cheek
i miss the games and girlish laughter
i miss the passion in her day
i miss the time she'd spend with me
i miss the years cruelly stripped away
i miss most the things she had to teach me
but since she's been gone i recognize
she's been the angel watching over me
AP: 3rd place 2025
If I were a dewdrop, I'd wish I were a blossom.
If I were a blossom, I'd wish I were a butterfly.
If I were a butterfly, I'd wish I were a dewdrop.
Where does all the wishing end?
In a little house, where there is golden honey light,
a wind-kissed garden, some star-woven lullabies, and Grandmother,
laying the tapestry of tomorrow on the sandalwood table.
And Aarohi, Aarohi, sitting at that table,
eyes sparkling like monsoon rain on lotus leaves,
wishing to be there.
The smell of possibility,
the taste of tomorrow,
the feel of your small hand in mine,
these are what I treasure as your Paddhu.
Part of me will go on in this world,
but part of me will always be that guardian
watching in the garden of your becoming,
offering my voice like gentle guidance,
knowing that the promise will never end.
Sweet child of my child,
my love for you grows like wildflowers,
untamed, persistent, returning season after season.
This is my promise, planted in the soil of your becoming!
I am here, I believe in you, always.
Cold hospital light
My footsteps pause at the door.
Her cries pierce the walls.
Birth's ancient struggle unfolds.
Beyond where fathers may go
Nurses hurry past.
With cryptic glances that hold
Untold miracles
Hours bend like willow branches,
Time stretches, contracts, and waits.
Pacing the hallway
My heart beats in rhythm with
Her unseen labours
What tiny face forms itself
Behind that forbidding door?
Each scream transforms her.
Mother being forged in pain
Fierce crucible now
Ancestors whisper courage.
Through generations of birth
Then, there was a sudden silence.
The world holds its breath with me.
A new cry breaks through.
A daughter's daughter arrives.
The circle completes itself.
The door opens at last.
Tearful eyes meet mine; she smiles.
"Come meet our baby Aarohi!”
I remember your hug
Arms wrapped around me with love
We'd rock back and forth
Like the swing on my porch
And you'd squeeze me so close
I still miss that the most
A little dance with our feet
And a soft kiss on my cheek
Later this year
Sick and full of tears
I layed next to you in the hospital not knowing it was possible
Your hand clenching mine
By God's perfect design
Two hands interlaced
Love cannot be erased
I wish you were still here
With no pain and no tears
But as I grieve for you alone
I'll remember you are now home
My sweet G
Your memories will always be with me
I was reluctant to go to the zoo for several reasons.
But you have not been there for so many seasons!
It is more difficult now without legs that work
but my granddaughter begged me with so much perk!
She convinced me, and we had such a fine day!
Watching the monkey, gorillas, and giraffes in play.
I had not realized how tall they are, but from here they are like trees.
It was an October day, and there was a most gentle soft breeze.
We had a few hiccups, but that is to be expected.
But we had so much laughter, I thought we might be arrested!
So if you are hesitating to take a trip because your legs do not work
Find a granddaughter like mine who has plenty of perk!
My first-born miracle,
You blessed my youth
And forever, my heart
With your liquid brown gaze.
All the men in your life
Were caught in your baby grasp,
Helpless to resist your sweet,
Angelic smile
As you changed from a tempest
To an imp, to a cherub,
To a diva, and back again.
So quixotic,
So determined,
And so very loved.
What a wonder you are!
A gift from the universe,
The practical one.
Always so poised
Even when afraid
You are your mother’s child
Always knowing what you want
And getting what you need.
Your star will never burn out.
In your quest to succeed
There was never a question.
A friend, a daughter, and more
Now a bride, beautiful in lace.
My heart swells with pride and love.
A happy day for you I’m sure,
A most lucky day to enjoy,
You are a double grandma now.
You have a new bundle of joy!
Apples, peaches, pears, or plums,
Or any other kind of fruit
Are not as sweet as Julie is,
Or as adorable or cute!
Bright sunflowers, fragrant roses
Or what grows up in your garden
Can never be as lovely as
The beautiful Miss Carden!
They have the cutest clothes now for little granddaughters.
I cannot help but buy this outfit.
Another pink and orange thing? My daughter asks.
My granddaughter squeals and runs to her room to change.
She loves the colors I love.
Whereas her mother, my own child prefers khakis and dull browns.
“She is like me,” I say, pleased.
My granddaughter is the cutest girl in Texas.
Maybe even in the whole southeast of the USA.
She was the most boastful grandma we met that day.
And we are all grandmas, with our hair of gray.
If I show you a picture it will dazzle your eyes out.
Her bragging was ridiculous, took form of a shout.
We said sure we’ll take a peek, and a peek we did.
She was not wrong; her granddaughter was a really cute kid!
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