Grandparents Poems | Examples

Premium Member What the Wind Remembers



There was a time when the child was the center of the circle. The elders sang her name into the morning, braided her hair with stories, fed her with hands that had known hunger. She was carried across rivers of doubt, through storms of becoming, and placed gently at the edge of her own path.

Now she walks with her head full of noise, measuring love by the frequency of messages, forgetting the songs that once held her upright. She says they are silent. That they do not call. But the wind remembers. The wind remembers the prayers whispered into her pillow, the sacrifices made without witness, the tears that fell into the soil to make her strong.

She has grown tall, but not deep. Her roots skim the surface, searching for mirrors instead of water. She has learned the names of stars, but not the names of those who lit them for her. The elders do not chase. They wait. They speak in the language of patience, of time that moves like rivers underground. And still, she does not hear.

ghost wind through cedars—
names carved in the bark still sing,
but no one listens

Premium Member I Have So Little Time

I have so little time
It seems
I wake up half way through
My dreams

Awake I fear not
Demon screams
But those concocted
By pre-teens

Or worse
The subtle facial memes
Of ever changing
Toddler schemes

Then with stealth
I spring the trap
A story told
Before a nap

Premium Member DAILY GRATITUDE GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER

As we await our first great-granddaughter…
speaking now as a great-grandmother and great-granddad
we are grateful to see opening up
another section of our heart…
we never knew we had.

Never say that she is dead

We will not say that she is dead.
We have never said that she is dead. 
We will never say that she is dead. 

We’ll say she’s in heaven
We will say she passed away
We tell the children she went to God’s house
And became an angel on the way. 

We say she’s gone
We say she died
But none of us have ever said she’s dead
We will never say that she is dead.

Memories vs Merits

The good times, and the fitness
In our albums borne witness
Falls short on the test
That determines one’s rest.

Yet the stakes can be raised
By giving G-d praise,
Respecting a spouse
Within one’s own house,
Being noted Above
For doling out love,
And enriching ascent
On the charities spent.

Descendants will place
On the mantle Grand’s face
Then frolic near the shelf
Making memories of self.

An Irish Love Song

Red flowing hair, she waited long
in her arms,  he did belong
why go to fight, she did not know
a bloody battle, the Somme, in flow

she waited long, with babe in arms
in her heart,  it tears apart
they were so young and very poor
why war to fight, she wasn't sure.

would he come back, to her devote
so she sang to him, in this small note
wasteful lives, thousand dies
no one knows of the why's

l never knew them, but l see them now
in photo's old, and close somehow
she was a beauty, he was so proud
so much love, but shroud in clouds

red flowing hair, he came back to her
in her arms, he now belongs
he had to go, but still more woe
they died together,  passed love 
.............................. .............did grow.

for my grandparents..Clannad (English lyrics) 'Siuil A Run'

CHOICES

We make our own choices
In life and no one's perfect
But when you decide to have kids
It's your responsibility not
The grandparents, the children now
Have excessive energy, don't listen
Throws tantrums, and have no
Discipline at all, because they're
Not taught, if you the parent
Can't control them what expect
From the grandparents, then you
want them to babysit Monday through
Friday, plus weekends so you can
Have a date night or go out
Grandparents have a life to and 
Want to live their life too
They're not just here to
BABYSIT!

Premium Member SENIOR CITIZEN PERSPECTIVE

A Senior Citizen any day
Blessed to wake up hooray
Through the aches and pain
Sometimes the need to complain
Memory sometimes in forget
Enjoyment of retirement blitz
Carefree sensation
Surrounded by family and Grandchildren
Forget the Nursing Home
Always a need to walk and talk
Enriched spirit
Wanting to enjoy and live
 Breath of Life
Embracing refreshing flowers
Sometimes for hours
Oasis of their own
Rocking Chair moments
Reflecting on their past life
Youthful years
Wisdom mounts
Encouraging words
Exercising those joints
Friendly breezes in blessing
Smile to smile
Heart to heart
A Senior Citizen Start.

Premium Member Beautiful lady

Beautiful lady

She had her
 daddy's eyes 
She had her
Mom's smile.
 She had her 
grandpa's strength 
She had her 
Grandma's style.
What a beautiful lady
 she would have
 turned out to be. 
Oh wait a minute,
 she did,
 that beautiful lady 
 was me.

Premium Member Treats grandbaby differently than son

draconian dad
stubbornly immovable
until grandbaby

grandbaby request
cant be denied by papa
amazed baby dad

Premium Member For Granny or Me

      Swear words, public nudity
      Teen-aged crime and murder sprees

      Abortion-on-demand, LGTQB
        ~ No place left for granny or me

What Hurts The Most

What hurts more than the fact
I didn’t get to say goodbye
Is the fact
They’ll never see what I become.

Fading Voices

they sit by windows streaked with time
watching days dissolve to gray
their voices, once a steady chime,
now whispers none will hear or stay

names they spoke with love and pride
have softened into air and dust
letters sent, unanswered, dried
memories fading, left to rust

the hallway hums with hollow sound
a clock that ticks but never calls
footsteps pass, but none are found
that stop beyond these silent walls

once, they held the world so near
cradled hands and wiped away fears
now they wait, year after year
forgotten ghosts of golden years

The Girl Who Cried Wolf Revised

She cried out for attention—was it really a game?
Or was it the only way they’d remember her name?
Her voice, an echo, lost in the night,
Drowned by indifference, swallowed by spite.

Her grandfather’s eyes, heavy with shame,
Saw only a liar—never the pain.
She was a burden, a whispered regret,
A shadow of sorrow he’d rather forget.

Lonely, broken, battered, and bruised,
A soul left to wither—discarded, misused.
Comparable to fruit left to decay,
Softened by wounds, wasting away.

But if they’d listened—if they had seen,
Would she still be trapped in a silent scream?
Or was she always meant to fade,
A ghost in the home where she was made?

The Orange Brick House in Westridge Farms

I was worried they’d paint the house brown
Or red or green or blue.
I couldn’t even imagine 
They’d turn it into something new

Now they’re ripping up the floorboards
Like your absence tore my heart.
It’s as though every nail they place
Tears us further apart. 

300 miles plus an extra six feet,
3.5 hours turned into four.
But we never make the drive
Because there’s no home for us anymore.

The earth didn’t stop spinning
When your heart ceased to beat
But for me, my world was shattered
So I’ll never drive down that street.

I don’t want to see what’s changed,
Or the house that’s been reformed.
All i want is to go back
To the way it was before.

Specific Types of Grandparents Poems

Read wonderful grandparents poetry on the following sub-topics: anniversary, appreciation, beautiful, christian, day, funny, grandchildren, great, grieving, losing and more.

Definition | What is Grandparents in Poetry?

Poems Related to Grandparents

granddaughter, grandfather, grandmother, grandson, great grandparents,

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