Grands Poems - Poems about Grands

Eleven years ago tonight, Our son and his new bride Exchanged their vows to start their life Together, side by side. Today, they’re off to celebrate, A mini-trip away So with our grandkids (8 & 6) We have the chance to stay. It isn’t like the days gone by When nanas merely cooked. In modern days we Uber them To every place they’re booked. Today was soccer,...

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Les petites pépites de temps mènent à de GRANDS RÉSULTATS je désirais accomplir une seule chose par jour je croyais avoir perdu la tête à la fin de chaque journée je ne pouvais comprendre comment c’était possible d’avoir encore réussi à ne pas accomplir la seule chose que j’avais comme objectif. jour après jour je n’avais pas réussi à ramasser une...

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GRANDS OF GLOCKENSPIEL O beloved grands of glockenspiel, a mallet never gave such pleasure, as when those filled with innocence expound a bell-like sound, the ring of laughter caught between the door and walls. A magical metallophone of minds, curious with over the rainbow octaves, living in a harmonious fantasy, of which g-rents are glad to occupy, though less spry then when 29. O beloved...

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The grand of grands is left to die. A piano too large to heave can only stand as time goes by in a scene where one would grieve. It once made melody so fine. The grand of grands is left to die. Without skilled hands to touch its kind. To see it anyone would cry. With leftover life strewn awry, it rots inside an...

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"Those were better times. Good times! Being round my grands… It reminds me of my grandparents; Grandma, baba, ouma, bomma grandmother; Love to read poems sing them ole time songs; So much love they given each of us; Those were better times. Good times! Being round my grands… Yet they were stern Great teachers taught my parents as will as me to learn; They listened...

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”Oh! Man, these golden rods Hot and full of butter lots Salted just rightly I hold ever so tightly Even Butch and Bailey my dogs Licks their lips for the flavor Wishing I’d just drop one No! Boy, ain’t gonna happen this I’m gonna savor Grands Munz is holding 5 more I’m hoping I’ve gotten room for them boy… Yum…Each kernel of these cobs are...

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Yogurt smoothies, Cocoa Puffs, Mac & cheese and chicken; Mushrooms, couscous, turkey (sliced) And lots of snacks for pickin’. Cheetos, corn chips, Goldfish, Peaches, olives and a plum; Watermelon, cantaloupe And still, there’s more to come… Swiss cheese, pickles, Kit Kats And some mini ice-cream cones; Yummy corn still on the cob, Organic milk for bones. Sautéed broccoli and oh, Some lemon poppy muffins, All to fill the bellies Crying...

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First the ride (with kids' CDs) Then supermarket (mini-cart); Buying lots of food to please Then snacks and playground, for a start. Books and Curious George on tape, Dinner, Face-Time Mom & Dad; From routines a great escape. What a time we all have had! Baths and bedtime story, then Hugs and kiss and cozy tuck; Next some calm for hours when Our perfect streak...

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I Miss My Maternal Grands ---------------------------------------- That big red cock with long beard And sturdy limbs Crowed every minute, haha! In loud voice like the growling lion claiming his kingdom . Danced around and romanced and ...! Those dozens of hens dust-bathed In the calm middays in the shady backyard . I leapt in joy...! grandma's permission to open the hen-house's...

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To Winkin’ Blinkin’ and of course nod. In terms of symmetry prose and shish kabob. The tricks and twirls and polar light; the flip and flare and star of kiddy sleepless night can rip and roar and rankle up a juicy fight, in the twinkle of an eye. Forget wit and woe and places to and fro and things obscure in fuzzy wuzzy lights to swing and sway in wrinkled...

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One of my grandsons, name of Benjamin He likes eating toast made with cinnamon But uses his wits To not eat his grits Then excuses himself like a gentleman Charlie thrives on competition Out smarting you is his mission Bear hugs Tiny bugs, And “stick to it” repitition William’s impish smile is contagious The attention he wants is outrageous That slobbery kiss He can’t let you miss Borders...

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coffee best describes papa joe's essence for me coffee kisses- YES fertilizer stink paternal grandaddy smell famous tomatoes noxzema only for miss toby before bed shakey hands slicked up but then grandmama whew! peach cobbler first of all sweet corn, pot roast, ham oh man, those fried pies blackberry and peach goodness beautiful mem'ry...

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