Twelve years ago today, I sat
In a garden, where the birds
Chirped and frolicked in the fountain;
I was waiting for the words
Which would let me know that I’d become
A nana to a boy
And making room within my heart
For some never-ending joy.
No matter what you hear or read,
There is no way to know
How a grandchild stakes his claim on you
And never lets it go.
Of course, that’s if you’re lucky,
And the way things have unfurled,
I’m among the very luckiest
Of nanas in the world!
I will never give up
Waste not a moment
There are things
That only I will tell them
I cannot stand by
Satisfied, though frightened
By the “comfort” of old age
I will teach them
The game has rules
Be it Candy Land
Or Monopoly
I shall sing
Old songs
Loudly
Cagily teach them
To chant
In a controlled
Joyousness
I shall thank them
For allowing me
To grow old
Without growing up
Adam
My great
Grandson
Is a
Special
Needs child.
Unique.
Hard for
Him to
Connect,
Talk or
Play with
Others.
Few speak.
Struggles
To talk.
Afraid
Of dogs
And cats.
I love
My dove.
My boy
I do
So, Spoil.
He loves
His small
iPad.
True love.
SweeterThan All the Roses
Wishing that I could roll back the years,
And stop my hot, burning tears!
Though no prayers, can turn back the clock,
As you slept in my arms, with only one sock.
No more seeing you in Wal-Mart, silly -dance!
Only in cracked, memory’s mirror, I have a chance.
For you, belong to tomorrow ‘s rainbows and sunshine,.
Grandson, for you, in gratitude, I do in tears pine!
Those baby soft days, talcum- powdered, ever divine!
-8/16/2025-
Our grandson’s in a show today -
We are his greatest fans -
So being in the audience
Is foremost in our plans.
The theater hosts some famous stars
So it will be a thrill
For Henry to be on that stage;
He’s tense, but knows the drill.
We’ll sit and watch and burst with pride.
(In Yiddish, that’s to kvell.)
Our grandson brings us so much joy -
As if you couldn’t tell!
~Life’s Success Formula~
Discipline beats motivation.
Don’t stop being a sensatiom!
————————————
Dedicated to my loving grandson,Edward!
Going to live in the mellow, Southern,USA.
To start a successful, university education!
Forever in my heart, Grandma Pangie!
Myself and another poet, attended your entire,
auspicious, graduation ceremony!!
Observing the ceremony LIVE onYouTube.
In different countries! Bless him, Lord!
her resolve loosened
because he is her grandson
dissipating grudge
his choices not hers
but she cannot love him less
pure true grandmas love
We’d not seen our grandson in weeks,
Unless you count photo-type peeks,
But today, like a champ,
When we met him at camp,
He was grinning right up to his cheeks.
We were thrilled we could thus reconnect,
Though we hadn’t known what to expect,
But our mutual hugs
(So much better than shrugs!)
Had a perfect, delightful effect.
Now we’ll spend a few days hanging out
And I know, with no shred of a doubt,
We’ll enjoy what we do
And before we are through,
We’ll forget we’d a Henry-less drought.
Hands of wisdom
Gone on to God’s Kingdom
Guidance in understanding
Knowing and sustaining
Heaven on high
The watch from Thy
Encouragement that was broad
My heart being assured
Grandma’s years of living experience
Her impact and influence
Strength endurance
Grandma wise
Seeing I to I
Times of Discipline
Wrong to right
Youthful years sometimes resent
As an Adult, I understand
Her song her own, “Afterwhile”
I am enriched to stand and withstand
Her praying hands feature
My Grandmother was some teacher
Grandson don’t worry
I her whispers in live and enjoy
I learned well
Understanding myself and purpose
My footsteps have journeyed miles
My reflections while
The think back
Keeping track
Living my best in Grandma’s wisdom
Preparation test fulfilled
More greatness to come
The live out
Grandma’s desire
I found a bunch of letters
Dated 1993,
Which were written by my son from camp
And forwarded to me.
It was his first time staying there,
For one month, in a bunk.
He was away, with new routines
And he was in a funk.
His letters said he missed us
And was homesick just at night.
Aside from that, it seemed that he
Was managing all right.
A theme that was recurring
Mentioned we should send him stuff.
It sounded like, to him, our parcels
Weren’t filled enough.
This summer, his own son’s at camp -
First time, a different place,
But now in photos sent
We see his mostly smiling face.
His emails sound more upbeat
(Just a tiny “miss you” cloud),
Though he can’t request a package
Since today, they’re not allowed.
Remind me, Lord, how blessed I am!
I have no disease, from which to fear.
Nor, do I live to be a winning poet!
I am just average, and I do know it.
A family outstanding, fills my heart with joy.
A grandchild, off with honors, to University!
A Varsity-lettered, humbled, grown boy!
Remind me, Lord, how blessed I am!
I outlived a most dreaded, deadly, disease..
Let me live each day, full of gratitude!
Spare me the sin of writing, lazy platitudes.
Above all, like you, teach me how to forgive.
And with compassion, with joy, everyday to fully live!
Not to take, but with a joyous heart, to fully give!
The grandkids are heading to sleepaway camp,
Their clothing all labeled and packed,
Plus all of the extras they may or not need -
Way too much, as a matter of fact.
They bring pillows and blankets and flashlights and fans
And shin guards and sandals and cleats
And towels and bug spray and sunscreen and stamps
And shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste and sheets.
They need rain gear and sleeping bags, books and canteens,
A laundry bag, backpack and socks,
Plus sweatshirts and jackets and underwear (lots!)
And their sneakers and rain boots and Crocs.
Of course there are bathing suits, t-shirts and shorts
And sweatpants and PJ’s and fleece,
But there are no iPads or Switches or phones
So some wonders, I guess, never cease.
The days spent at camp will fly quickly until
All that stuff gets repacked to go home,
With some missing or ruined or filthy, but that
Is a topic for some future poem.
Emma, Empress of Unicorn Empire,
esprit de corps of elementary school,
expeditious at exaggerating expression,
eagerly extending empathy of enormous embrace,
endless enthusiasm, exuberant existence.
Deacon, Duke of derring-do,
diligently, doggedly daily to delightful displays
of dauntless daredevil, destruction,
determined gamer, droll demeanor,
dearly dedicated to devouring desserts,
Dad's double, diplomat of Dreamland.
Memories tattoo my brain like an artist
I miss loved ones passed and the last
Time I saw each one is frozen
Like icicle tears swelling brown eyes
Last time I saw her alive she
Was full of joy eating favorite foods
Planning her life despite breast cancer
Nothing stopped her from dreaming
Not even death
Final time I saw him in Atlanta
It was summer and he was smiling
Carrying his first grandson on
His shoulders piggy back style
Definitely proud
And so many more I hold on shores
Of happiness and gratitude for
I know love outruns death
I know somehow they are better
Where they are now in heaven
Henry found his people
And they’re up there on the stage,
Where with the audience, they all
Can magically engage.
We’ve watched him since his day of birth
And marveled at his gifts,
Delighted at the many ways
He’d give our spirits lifts.
He’s had to travel many paths
In search of where he’d fit
And middle school has been the place
Where all the fires were lit.
We sat there in the audience
And, watching him perform,
We knew that what he put out there
Was way more than the norm.
How thrilled we were to witness
Our dear grandson strut his stuff.
His future’s filled with promise
But to start, this was enough.
Specific Types of Grandson Poems
Definition | What is Grandson in Poetry?