Mother Grandson Poems | Examples
These Mother Grandson poems are examples of Grandson poems about Mother. These are the best examples of Grandson Mother poems written by international poets.
He is seventeen
Wears his hair long, in a ponytail, it does not look clean.
There are piercings in his lip and his ears.
He wears a spider tattoo on his forehead.
His mother is horrified.
His father is having a fit.
Both grandmothers laugh at them.
Loving their grandson no matter how he looks.
our nine-year-old grandson is spending the night tonight
I texted his mother to find out what three snacks he would like.
I have never bought any of these three items.
We will need to go to a better grocery store to get them.
Better than we usually shop, for sure.
We do not mind. He has not spent the night for a long time.
Maybe a couple of years; I hope he sleeps better now.
Maybe if we fill him up with snacks, he will.
This lady’s hair is so, so white,
creates an aura for that face.
Her age puts forth its beauty in the street.
She could be my charming mother,
my darling grand-mama,
that lovable great Aunt Lucy.
But I am old, and all are gone.
How easy it is to conjure memories of those
three ladies when someone passes me in the street.
(29 Feb 2024)
turquoise hair and pink stripes!
his mother must be proud!
giggling and poking fun commences.
annoyingly mean and loud.
I am proud of him,
his grandmother says with pride.
I love crazy punk stuff,
now you two better hide.
the bullies ran off in haste
For they could see she meant it.
teenager with the wild hair
loved hearing grandma vent it.
Leroy jumped on his cycle when he heard the phone
Grandma was calling; she wanted her grandbaby home.
His mother tried to keep up as he ran that day.
Leroy was headed for his grandma’s, straight away.
He jumped on his cycle and made a loud engine sound.
His grandma was waiting in the field with cookies around.
She gave him hugs and kisses, and would not let go.
“Oh, grandma my sweetheart,” He said “I have missed you so!”
There is a young man who loved the sea
He could read the stars and winds by age three
He loved to venture along the Alaska shores
Leaning the ocean at the age of four
He would read of the sea and mother natures storms
How quickly, from nowhere, the clouds could form
He was ready to go at an early age
But school would be the turning page
As a small boy, he had dreams of the sea
A captain of a ship was what he would be
School work and parents were the anchors on land
His thoughts were to be a sea sailing man
At night he would dream of being at sea
Salt water in his face, his thoughts were free
His sea shells were falling from his nightstand jar
Still wearing his pajamas, he didn't get far
But this little sailor will set sail someday
He's learning to be a captain along the way
Yes, one day, he'll have his boat
But for now, in the tub, the plastic ones float
He may be small, but ideas are big
When he sets sail one day, he will control the rig
Big white sails full of wet summer breeze
This grown-up man now holds the sea.
William L Pickard
Photo provided by Carolyn Muscle
The sailor is Wallace Johnson, her grandson.
Anticipation
By Franklin Price
04/06/2022
I am in anticipation
Of a visit I have planned
To see the first Great grandchild
Those who've been there understand
He was born in February
One day after Valentine
His given name begins with “D”
To carry on the Perry line
His father's name is Dalton
Grandfather's name is Darren
His great grandfather's Danny
How do you think I 'm farin'?
What is his name?, you're thinking.
In case you're wondering, it's Dean
I have watched him on the portal
Many pictures I have seen
I'll be seeing him in person
After shots, at eight weeks old
Don't think he will be walking yet
That's the story I've been told
He'll be ready for some sit-ups
Has been saving them for me
His mother did them at that age
I'll just have to wait and see
I'll be there on Barbara's birthday
She can see him through my eyes
She's been watching him from heaven
Sending love, that's no surprise.
My mousepad is a photo of my two-year-old red-haired grandson Jack
Sitting on a rocking horse smiling as the sun hits his face
It brings me pure joy each time I notice it
And I notice it a lot.
Jack is fifteen now, but in my mind he will also forever
be a baby, for I took care of him every day when he was a baby
from when he was three months to seven months.
It was the best gift my daughter ever gave me.
I will always and forever cherish it also.
When I felt more like a mommy to him than a grand-mommy.
It was marvelous! We are still close, for I know that he
also remembers these days when he looks at me.
His younger brother Max always wants “grandma alone time”
and tells everyone else they “cannot come” when we go swing
or he rides a scooter or whatever. This pleases me too.
Being the mother of girls who act more like cats, snarling and hissing.
I did not know boys could be loving like puppies
Wanting to sit in your lap until they are sixty.
I am overjoyed to have grandsons!
tercets
Braxton H. Gardner of north Kentucky,
progenitor of our family tree.
His marriage date was 1833.
Braxton Charles S. Gardner from our archive,
was his youngest son, born in ’45.
He barely recalled his father alive.
Barney Braxton Gardner, uncle of mine;
his sister, my grandma, mother of nine.
My father was namesake of his blood line.
Barney Braxton Jolly born in ‘11,
married his sweetheart in ’37.
These four have died and look down from heaven.
Ruth Braxton Jolly, that’s me, data fount;
only female in this list tantamount
of Braxtons quite an accomplished head count.
Darren Braxton Poteet, my younger son,
Braxton Lee Poteet, age 14, grandson
complete my list of six kinfolk Braxton.
November 18, 2020
No, it's not his first time,
But my tears fall, nonetheless!
We were together for much of
the summer.
His mother, Maria, sees to this.
If we lived far away, oh, that
would be the worst bummer.
He has grown from a little boy,
way shorter than I.
Now he towers way over his short
Nana.
And to me, he's as beautiful and
tall as our Creator's sky!
I will miss our breakfasts and
lunches together.
And watching fun movies and news!
He is far more astute, than just the
weather.
He's off to seventh grade tomorrow.
Another year, and his goal is to
be on the honor roll!
And this year, more poetry
stressed, a most admirable goal.
So God bless him is his studies,
basketball, and piano playing.
He won't be here as much,
but in my heart he is remaining.
July 30. 2019
Noon PST
The world in which we are born, without any say is the
structure for which I built this poem of a journey crossing lands of the unknown and written with my love for my grandson, Austyn.. While he was still on the other side and I had to wonder what he was aware of and what was about to come. Was my playing with him here startle or scary the little human or did he know who and what we were. As we have to wait for the arrival is it as long a journey as it is for a mother-to-be. Our world. we love to show you about every magical creature and the deadly dark life threatening species we walk amongst and teach the survival guide to being an Australian. They are the most selfish creatures God designed and to the extreme he did so. Still they must be good for us, as we continue to breed I mean was stupid enough to have had six. You would think I would’ve learnt. But hey I finally got one I liked.
I've just returned from a visit with my daughter and grandson,
which prompted this sonnet...
Blind were my eyes overflowing with tears
How swiftly they flew, those eight days in Fall
My heart feeling pinpricks of wounding spears
from goodbye kisses and hugs I recall
A kiss on his cheek and then another
Innocence slept as I whispered goodbye
I held tight to the arms of his mother,
my daughter and I sorrowfully wept
I will hear his voice for several days,
"Gonna kick that silly ball down the field."
A three year old giving thumbs up then says,
"I scored two goals, Nana!" Oh, how he squealed.
Leaving loved ones is a pierce to my heart,
an ache between visits, so far apart.
To honor my grandson Adrian Michael
Apollo resides secretly even before he breaths life,
Determining what this special seed could blossom to be.
Receiver on a champion football team, youngest to ascend to the presidency,
Individuality immediately seen but his strength adds to an already strong family,
Anticipation of his possibilities fly high as he announces life with a loud cry.
Naming came as a delight such honor bestowed ignites tear-filled joyous eyes,
Mother sees visions of success in his eyes so doesn’t mind any sacrifice,
In-love she is completely with he, this new addition to their Hann Dynasty.
Champion for stunning sister who loves new baby brother to the highest degree,
He swears to stands by her side until day and night subsides in his eyes.
Atlas, of firm shoulders for his family, mentally, an employee of what’s holy,
Emperor over earth and skies in his defense I gladly die,
Led into a fight with enemies seen or out of sight I suffice this new prodigy.
Mason
Crazy, funny, energetic, strong.
Son of Mother, brother of Sister, grandson of Nann and Granpa.
Lover of Lacrosse, School, and Animals.
Who feels confidence, responsibility and is muscular.
Who needs hats, sunglasses, and an Under Armour shirt.
Who gives to the needy, Animals, and Mother Earth.
Who fears Tigers, Bears and Unicorns.
Who would like to see the Grand Canyon and England.
Resident of America.
Masmann.
( thoughts from the mind of an 11 year old )
I’m having myself a grandson
I’m beginning to swell up with pride
He’s going to be something quite handsome
If he takes after Granddaddy’s side
He’ll be smart, maybe even an Einstein
And play golf like the great Tiger Woods
His genes will have come from a fine line
For success he will have all the goods
Sure he’ll start out all tiny and helpless
But he’ll grow on you, you can just bet
When he’s grown he’ll be loving and selfless
A man just as good as they get
I’m having myself a grandson
His mother’s just beaming with joy
I can hardly wait for the outcome
A first for this family – a boy!