my grandpa is not one of your regular Joes
he travels around where a surf blows
he has been riding boards since sixty-two
he will never come home to Kalamazoo
Sometimes I bump into him on a beach
He always has facial hair like a baby peach
He does not know me, but I am like him a bit
Single, annoying, a lone wolf, a chit
Grandpa is taking me fishing.
Don't know if I even like fishing.
I like making him happy!
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
He was old, so old. Not just old, but archaic, ancient. In his seventies when I was born… and I remember, his face well worn. We shared a feeling, the two of us. A feeling, a family, a faith in our heart. He was old and I was young. Together, we found the wonder of love. Love built on the sharing of ice cream cones. The love built on knowing that chestnuts were best consumed after they’d been roasted in Granny’s old wood stove. A love built on knowing that Granny knew more than she should. And the time would come when we’d feel better on the porch than we could in any room. Together we shared a feeling, a family, a faith. Faith in each other and faith in God’s amazing grace. Faith in the old spring’s water. Faith in the hay God made. Faith in Granny’s garden. Faith in Jesus, the Way. He was old, older than I knew. Him and me found a purpose in planning our days and we’d agree, life would never be the same after he passed away. His light, though, would remain, to brighten the way with truth. The truth that tells me, he was my proof that there is good in this world and there is love, too.
too old to say no
he was a living legend
offering me hope
I found him in a box of dust-soft relics,
a face blurred by time yet bright with family and memory.
From brittle scrapbook pages, his life unfolded-piece by piece,
his story rose—a German farm boy who fled Dorn,
the sailor who leapt into Gulf-dark waters, swimming
toward Galveston Bay and the faint glow of a future he hoped to claim.
Texas shaped him with love, labor, and loss,
eight children rooting his family deep into new soil.
Dusk pooled in the attic around me, his courage moved
through our family line into my own bones~a quiet inheritance.
*You may find the accompanying memoir vignette at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/the_stranger_in_the_box_13607
Maternal grandpa owned a car where boot lid came back and folded down
From underneath our shearing shed he'd bag up lots of sheep manure
Tied to tray on back of car , travel four hundred kilometres back to town
Would pile the poo on his suburban garden
where he grew beetroot lettuce and some corn
to water and weed this vegie patch
he would rise at break of dawn
So thank you grandpa for this mentorship
since those days, I've loaded ute, with many different kinds of poo
There's horses, goats, ducks, donkey, cow, hens and sheep
I'm not much into waste , with compost dunny, to soil, mine adds much richness too
I have many different types of fruit and lots of greens to make a meal
with world events a lack of food, maybe not too long, it could all get real
Grandpa
small time farmer
always sickling weeds
from road looked like grim reaper
scary
he is snappish, waspish, crusty too
also cranky, my great grandpa Lou
people’s ideas make him dour
even to grandma, he is quite sour
we wonder what made him this way
he’s a grumpy grouch who does not play
I never met his mother Lily Sue
but I have heard she was depressed and blue
Good Old Grandpa
My grandpa,
is as round shouldered as a question mark
and he is led about all day
by his wobbly walking stick,
with teeth that aren’t real,
hidden behind a moustache that is
while his memories simmer warmly
inside his crinkled paper bag of a face.
My grandpa,
old and worn on the outside
but sparky and fresh on the in.
For he often,
shakes my hand with fifty pence pieces,
makes sweets pop out from behind his ears
then smokes all like a train
and laughs like one as well.
My grandpa,
Plays jokes on my mother
to freshen her face with a smile
then tells me stories which electrify my brain.
But best of all,
when my dad loses his temper,
Gandpa just tells him
to sit down and behave himself.
Good old grandpa!
Grandpa 26 Dec 2025
Giving zerberts on her tummy and playing piggies to make her laugh.
Running after her and watching to ensure she’s safe in the park.
Assembling and adjusting a child’s artist easle before Christmas.
Never letting her cross the street alone, but going on frequent walks.
Driving her to see farm animals, pumpkin patches and corn mazes.
Playing chopsticks with her on the piano, holding her index fingers.
Allowing Carolina to experience new things as long as they’re safe.
Carolina 26 Dec 2025
Carrying more dollies and toys than a toddler can reasonably hold.
Always in motion, we nicknamed her both tornado and hurricane.
Running or pushing toy baby carriages, strollers and mowers.
Only not quite three, she insists on climbing up the big kids’ slides.
Learning about gardening with Grandpa, and cooking with Grandma.
Interested early in books, but won’t let us read all before turning the pages
Nightly learning to say her prayers with Grandma before going to bed.
Although always exhausting, she is missed when she’s back with her folks.
the blinds go up in a slow methodical way
then they abnormally travel back down
up and down, up and down, twice
the cupboards bang open and shut
the lights flicker
a glass jiggles its way across the counter
ghost or no ghost?
No ghost, says everyone except grandma
she knows it is grandpa when the TV goes off
He never did like a romantic movie, she tells us
How can she believe in this stuff? someone says.
She’s lived longer than the rest of us
Maybe that’s why.
Grandpa Stripes needed attention in the worst way
He came into kindergarten to watch his granddaughter’s play
The children thought he was a magical elf, and begged him to stay
He had the best time he had had since last Saturday
With bent backs, aching bones, and withered hands
We unfurled sail beneath a glorious moon
Which painted you softly on the jeweled night
Your smile glistened as you stood at the bow
Our canvas full we braved a quiet bay
With the barest breeze trailing in our wake
The wind deserted us upon a silken sea
Furling our sails tight against the spruce mast
We tossed our anchor into a white sprayed splash
Venturing below deck we latched the hatch
Turning up the radio with feisty, rollicking rock
Yeehaw Grandma shrilled this eager Grandpa
As our wood hulled boat shattered the glassy sea
Pitching port and starboard with roll and wrenching yaw
Our ancient bones arose at morn through a popped-up hatch
To find a blushing dawn caressing the sky.
With grandpa on the Thames to fish,
Our boat sailed north like a Croc,
Meandering brackish waters,
Waiting for a feast of catfish.
Pike, perch, and zander were grandpa's wish;
Barbel, carp, chub, and bream his catch.
Halibut and cod were my desire,
Their flavours always buttering my palate.
The fun was full,
Until a Croc rose for our catch,
Its eyes fixed on my shiny leg,
As if one bite could sate its hunger.
I trembled at its timid stare,
Unaware it was hypnotizing me.
I tapped grandpa and whispered, "See a Croc…"
His fearful shout sent it fleeing.
Then I realized how poor grandpa’s eyes were;
My youthful sight saved us from the Croc—
Grandpa might have filled its appetite,
While I became its appetizer instead.
look grandpa
i hooked my own bait
he squirmed good
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
I miss you both
Your guidance being my oath
It seems like yesterday
You both went yonder far
Beyond my eyes
Up in Heaven having a look down
Your words through your wisdom
Wise and true
You would say today, Grandson you are doing what we advised and that’s pursue
You would be proud
Sometimes when I get into a struggle, I feel your whispers in what I should do
I feel your friendly breezes from outside
Your warmth on the inside
Your disciple being harsh and firm
Life’s preparation I needed to learn
Hard knocks from your experiences
Grandma and Grandpa truly knew
It was life to go through and making break throughs
My tears often fall in reflection
But never forget your lesson
You taught me how too preserver
Overcoming all the fear
I see greatness in the skies
I know you both are observing in watchful eyes
Inspiration you gave me
Being my very best
Always being in my corner
Tomorrows that became
Appreciative in take aim
Remembering you both now and forever
Thank you in the natural and the spirit
Love you both
Heart to Heart
Your Grandson to cherish
Until into the atmosphere
Your Grandson
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