Grandmothers Poems - Poems about Grandmothers

the back of my hands are spotted with brownish red splotches and dashes they are as wrinkly as a Chinese dog blue veins are popping up in ugliness so this is why old women wear gloves! the same reason they wear scarves around their turkey necks I was never prepared to get this old did not realize it was a possibility until I...

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We’re in Paris, staying with my Grandmère (Grandmother) for a few days around Mother’s day. Peter (my bf) is getting to know my Grandmère. They’ve started to relax and enjoy each other. This time, when they met, they hugged. “You look great!” Peter said, “Have you had some work done?” She made a face that acknowledged the absurd,...

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Herstory from Battlefields to Laboratories - Daniel Henry Rodgers Beneath stardust's scattered gleam, Her-story, a comet’s tail, blazing across time. Through seasons it molds ...Once hushed now bold We rise like a chorus harmonizing ...In this vast of an eternal fold. For I am Harriet Tubman ...leading souls unseen. A beacon blazing hope, through history's mainstream. Through the tranquil, moonlit ...I had a lucid dream. From...

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Sometimes when nightfalls of summer feel so cold, and everything seems dark, I turn to the heat of my grandmother’s soup. Life can exist within bone China or simple ceramic textures, savoring salt and spices, but when it becomes bland, we seek sentimental essences to ease our yearning. When watercolor sunsets break into warm saffron hues, I remember her soft smile that bestowed...

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My Grandmother's House! That country-styled house of yesteryear has gone so fast now a sweet memory of times gone away from me, You could smell the breeze pushing and blowing a fragrance in the air. This story is told where memory has been and will be again to unfold! The lace curtains white and brown twirled with...

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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...

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Inspired by previous contest (women in my family) Women in my family Were unique in every way Though miles and years apart There’s very much to say Women in my family Have left a legacy Filled with pain and strife But, also, honesty Women in my family Weren’t perfectly petite But have you met a nice girl Who didn’t like to eat!? Women in my family Have gotten in...

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Grandmother sits in her rocking chair Views of the World, much clearer from there Eyes so dim, wiser still in times gone by Thinking of her marriage challenges All in the past no sense in worrying Children left home, marriages of their own Decisions made, Family visits start Manners taught have lasted the tests of time Younger one's at her feet Grandmother,...

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When I was just a small tot I remember lying on my Grandmother’s lap Face down in her apron of old sack cloth Scents of her cooking ingrained in its depth I was carried off to a peaceful slumber Those are times I fondly remember. She rocked babies from her children of seven On an old straight...

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Paternal grandmother's headstone - Beth David, Elmont, Long Island Shaindel (Sadie), variant of Shana Harris died May 13th, 1959 exquisitely chiseled alphanumeric characters legibly engraved sepulchral casket entombing lovely bones deoxyribonucleic acid repurposed into me Matthew Scott Harris patronymic protector, when I die taking family surname to netherland who unwittingly named his youngest daughter after his recently deceased father's mother. Mortality encompasses subsequent cremation never mind...

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A grandmother always loves you for who you are She'll shed every tear For each and every fear She'll try to take away the sadness And replace it with happiness. \Grandmothers carry a uniqueness With no weakness She'll will be your shield Through all your wars and when your outdoors. Her inner beauty shines so bright With so much delight My smile is cherished in her soul For each...

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As a child I would place my closed eyes in them while she hummed Gaelic melodies neither she nor I had words for. Her apron, it was brown like a butchers smock but with not a speck of blood upon it only daubs of fruit dumplings and the savor of rose-hip and elderberry flowers. Her hands were upon her lap and in them I placed my...

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There is a truth we don’t think about when we’re young It’s just too easy to ignore… how youth will win the early battles in life… but age will, eventually, win the war. It’s inherent in our destiny…because every night we turn a page and our youth, felt only moments ago, cedes another day to age. It seems life is...

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I had just got my hands on the new ‘Sergeant Pepper’ album. The four girls that lived above my flat were notified by jungle drums. Soon we were six, my pal Roger with his blonde Mexican mustache and shoulder length hair came over. We sat around a portable record player, passing the album cover around and swaying to the music filling the room with...

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Raking back the leaves to dig Roots that would soon become Brilliant displays of vibrant hues Creating music in the wind song With flamboyant heads swaying Dancing softly like generous hopes Assorted dreams drifting gently Picking cornfield beans, shades of Olive mysteries, sent to bring richest Wisdoms and warmth, miracles Buried beneath the slow caress Of a noon day sun who gives back Flavor and fulfillment, faith...

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