Memory Grandmother Poems | Examples
These Memory Grandmother poems are examples of Grandmother poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Grandmother Memory poems written by international poets.
M emories of you last forever
Y ou were very close to me
G ran you have journeyed with me through life
R obins come sing in my garden, like your still singing to me
A nd how I still smell the aroma of your coffee buns cooking
N ever a cross word we ever had
D evoted to one another through the journey of life
M y strong tower you always were
O h yes, I came threw so many hurts, your love soothed my soul
T he love you showered on me lasts a lifetime
H eavenly shores I'll meet you there one day
E very memory of you I could write a volume of books
R emembering your godly example you left for me
Written by Scottydotti 25/ 4/2026
In loving memory
Rich, with a hint of chocolate.
Every piece is decadent.
Delicious, creamy, and with white frosting.
Varies among cream cheese, buttercream or boiled.
Every birthday I would ask for one.
Layered high with boiled frosting.
Velvety smooth on your tongue, great for
Easter, Christmas or any holiday, and
Traditions of the past.
Cheerful and fond memories of my grandmother.
Always making bakery grade sweets and
Keeping her recipes hidden, written in French.
Every memory of her baking brings me joy!
Using yesterday's news as a table cover.
While painting these blank wooden coasters.
Firstly applying coated layers of metallic silver,
Then stamping flowers in gold and red colours.
They say to try to preserve each fragile flower
That I chose from her funeral's viewing casket.
It's just I've no idea how, but I do still love her,
So instead I'll dip them in a paint-filled basket.
I decided instead of only grieving her absence,
I'll let my inner muse be creatively so free,
Make presents; make better known presence.
I realize I rather much be like her: keep busy.
So I'll make use of my grandma's newspapers,
In memory of her strengths as a lovely woman.
I'll be like her: one whose love never wavers.
I also now realize who I am as my own person.
Icy sidewalks reflecting blinding sunlight
As I march on in an unclear state of mind.
Deciding, with fate I no longer want to fight.
I feel in this grief I don't care if I'll go blind.
Surface of all the snow will always shimmer,
Even while I feel faraway from my body.
As the day declines, the sky grows dimmer.
I am simply not all here, as I miss her dearly.
I walked for two hours beneath winter sun,
But I still feel at such a loss like a tree.
Like letting go of its leaves, I let go of a ton.
Feeling I'm between worlds, somehow free.
Just as water has memory, I recall fondly
All of the times we talked, played, and ate.
She's gone, but somehow still within me.
I spiritually inherited her every good trait.
I stare at the shimmering, soft, white snow
In a country field, sitting in the sunshine.
She was always a favourite person of mine.
I recall how all my life she watched me grow.
I sit here, put out what should be last smoke,
In the outskirts of a town far from my home.
I know I am free to stay wherever I roam.
I just wish I got to see her, but I'm so broke.
I silently let my tears fall into the snow,
Wishing her soul shall be free and well.
How I matured after every time for love I fell:
I never had the strength to let her even know.
I sit here in a field of snow, grieving alone.
I reminisce how she always loved me so.
I'll move on, but her memory shall never go.
I sit here, remembering our love we shown.
Memories of grandma’s old kitchen
Always so warm and inviting
Smells of love wafting through the air
A strawberry rhubarb pie in the oven
Smiles and hugs always on the menu
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
There's one special photo I've treasured
most of all across my many years.
It represents the epitome of love and freedom.
It's a memento of my role model,
someone who valued friendship,
who loved to travel and keep busy.
Memories of a grand-mother who
taught her little grand-daughter
precious skills carried through life.
It's a photo of timelessness,
of memories that refuse to dim.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
With wispy hair as matted snow
Her raisin skin and wrinkled brow
Framed a face lit with youthful smile
And bright loving eyes without guile
Her gnarled knuckles on withered hands
Gently combed my snarls into strands
She neatly gathered in a bow
Kissing me, it was time to go
Plus, one warm hug, as was the rule,
Before I would skip off to school.
Thankful for my youth
When all those days gifted me-
Nostalgia to tuck away.
Now those memories
Create my heartwarming yarns
Shared with our grandkids by me.
grandma, the family storyteller
in old age would forget
so her stories changed with the retelling
but an essence of truth remained
her voice echoes in my heart
was each story semantic to grandma
new in ambiguity to her
with random memories merging
I am the storyteller now
looking into the calm reflective waters of time
seeking recollected memories that echo
my words specular with reflected words
I am that girl at the kitchen table
listening to her musical voice impacting me
I wonder did she realize her life ending
did she want to give me her gift
I often escape into her fugue of melodic telling
her unexpected memory with all the beautiful failures
that perhaps only I who wished to be like her
who knew her stories told over years would grasp
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
Memories lost within a frozen mist
And dangling in the static atmosphere
Of muddled recollection of things dear
Haunt the backwoods of the years she has missed.
Through foggy glances, blurred thoughts that persist
In the dim haze, shapes of the past, appear;
These flittering figures, some far, some near,
Skitter through her mind, meek and shadow-kissed.
But soon they drift to a fathomless past,
A time she can no longer touch, just hear.
Rocking mechanically, her face austere,
She searches, brow stuck in a furrowed twist.
As I watch her eyes wander vacant space,
I wonder, “Will she still recall my face?”
*MAMA I REMEMBER THEM THOSE DAYS-
Mama, I remember the those days;
When you and grandma prayed;
We stayed in a church, them days;
Mama, I remember when we’d dance and sing;
Those this was be the joys, I’m now reminiscing;
And O’ what a time;
Seasons came around;
You in the kitchen;
Makin them pies, my, my, my
Mama, I remember them those days;
Mama, I remember them those days;
you teaching me my ABC's
you showing me what I need;
you holdin and huggin me;
you reprimanding, scolding me;
And O’ what a time;
Seasons came around;
You in the kitchen;
Makin them cakes and pies, my, my, my
Mama, I remember them those days;
01/03/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
I read her old letters from time to time
Hoping one day she may still write
Pretending she's still just miles away
I'll send my letters out anyway
As I read the words I still hear her voice
In these passing moments my eyes get moist
All these times she talks about I remember well
Will you be gone very long? Why must you go at all?
I keep my thoughts, my memories
And share them with my family
All of us at your house on Christmas Eve
Say Mr. Postman do you have a letter in there for me?
I still feel her presence by the Christmas Tree
In sharing my thoughts about Nana...
Where do I even begin?
Her smile that lit up every room?
Her sparkle? Her mischievous grin?
Her rib cracking hugs have been mentioned a lot
By the friends who she mutually adored.
Many felt inspired by her courage, her faith
And her trust in the Sovereign Lord.
Her sense of humour was second to none.
She loved banter as much as the rest.
She enjoyed Disney movies and light-hearted shows.
But MasterChef, for her, was the best.
But most memorable of all, as all would recall
In her life from the very start
Is the person she was to all who she met -
Her loving soul. Her caring heart.