Long Grandchild Poems
Long Grandchild Poems. Below are the most popular long Grandchild by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Grandchild poems by poem length and keyword.
I love Christmas Day… the giving…the receiving, a small reminder of the make believe
but I also love the days that lead up to Christmas…most notably Christmas Eve.
The gifts sit wrapped under the tree…unopened…their ribbons and bows are tied.
Christmas Eve is the last night to dream about the presents hidden inside.
The anticipation brings with it a warmth…a joy, you see it as your walking down the street…you feel it in your heart…you see it in the faces of everyone you meet.
I guess I shouldn’t be astonished by this feeling anymore
because I carry with me a history of enjoying the night before.
I remember the night before my first date, I was filled with excitement and awe
I remember that night as affectionately as I remember the movie we saw.
I remember the night before I was married, my face was in a perpetual grin.
Wondering what the future held…waiting for that future to begin.
I remember the night before my children were born as much as the days of their births.
I imagine if you looked you wouldn’t have found a happier person on Earth.
I remember the night before each grandchild was born..memories I hope will stay…
Four nights before I will remember…until my dying day.
Yes, the night before any special day in life has the power to enchant, to bewitch…to beguile
Which makes Christmas Eve another example of what makes this journey worthwhile.
So as much as I enjoy Christmas Day there are just as many reasons…I believe
to wish all of you who are reading this a joyous and happy Christmas Eve.
You say you caught a miserable cold, child,
And mother won’t let you play?
“When dawn drifts into enchanted meadows”
Is just the tale for you today!
The silent meadow comes alive at dawn
With the songs of a hundred birds.
It’s a well-orchestrated symphony
Of avian singers without words,
Not the discordant chatter of the morning news -
A human newscaster’s litany.
Can a hundred different bird’s sound peaceful
When they sing in harmony?
The verdant meadow comes alive at dawn
With two hundred butterflies.
These guys start out as homely caterpillars.
Each one, latent beauty, belies.
Two hundred winged enchantresses
In all their colorful flair -
Would we notice how gorgeous they are
Without the ugly to compare?
The flowery meadow comes alive at dawn
With the buzz of a thousand bees.
They pollinate the lovely flowers to make
Tomorrow’s wild strawberRIES.
These fellows carry scimitars, these
Confectioners on the wing.
Could we appreciate life’s sweet taste of honey
Without its painful sting?
The dappled meadow comes alive at dawn
With the work of a million bugs.
Every one of them has a purpose,
Even the lowly slugs.
Ants are industrious ecosystem engineers.
Worms aerate soil to make plants, green.
Would the king who sits atop the food chain eat
Without the labor of the unseen?
The enchanted meadow comes alive at dawn,
Bringing happiness and hope.
I hate to imagine what those without
Would do with enough rope.
Here's a riddle, grandchild, your life so new,
All about a world you have just come to.
Would we ever see creation’s light
Without the darkness of the night?
5
You, my most favorite darling, get my grandfather clock said she.
When I am dead. Unapologetic, diabolical laugh.
You, sweetie pie, get my off-key piano stated easily.
To keep in my tiny efficiency apartment? Is she daft?
And you, honey babe, get my jewelry, she prettily pointed out.
Indicating her only grandchild who does not like jewels.
Grandma was directing everyone bossily. No one dared pout.
Knowing the wrath that comes easy from old related fools.
Also knowing that when she is gone we can trade
Up and down, in and out, no one fully caring.
We will throw all the extra stuff to her loyal maid.
We sisters are all about dividing and sharing.
In a busy world I don't take for granted simple pleasures
like snuggling with a loved one on a chilly winter's night
Saving keepsakes of the things I collect and call treasures.
Finding myself in the dark until someone turns on a light.
I'm pleased that my children still come to me for advice
Happy with the blooms, from bulbs I planted last year.
It's wonderful when a dear friend does something nice...
like seeing me crying, then gently wipes away my tear.
Sugary kisses from my grandchild placed on my cheek
as sweet as the bite of a warm cinnamon bun with icing
Soft rain like mist is a gift from Mother Nature that I seek
and hoping to fall in love makes romance sound enticing.
Before rising in the morning I enjoy a long languid stretch
Being the giver instead of the one who takes in greed
Liking the end results of charcoal portraits that I sketch
Having a stranger return my smile is a pleasure, indeed.
Being gifted with a bouquet of flowers for no reason at all
Having a thirteenth doughnut thrown in for good measure
Being able to stand and walk after taking an emotional fall
Building faith in God overflows my heart with pure pleasure.
* * * *
January 20th, 2016
It s only a wrist watch
with a faded leather strap.
With it's gold numbers
a precious possession that's kept in a box.
Shown to the grand kids
His pride and joy.
"But grand dad its only a watch !"
"It is only a watch !", but look what does it say ?.
45 years service to the railway.
My life is engraved on the back of this watch.
I gave of my all my sweat and my blood.
See my grey hair and calloused hands
these are the things I got with the watch.
When I pass on, this watch it will be yours.
hold it close to your heart, as I will be gone.
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Comp entry 24102016 old jewellery or just old things
The boy gave a pass after sip.
The connection lame - lost my grip.
The fountain of suds
around my sole floods.
The humor and fear as I slip.
On pause, as I wait for a towel.
Aloof, as I cry and I howl.
Surrounded, I'm stuck
in pond like a duck.
This murderous flip's not too foul.
The youth, he's ashamed and he hides.
and knowingly, I do not chide.
I find and I hug,
I smile and I shrug.
This Gram thus takes slicks all in stride.
8/18/2019
*All too true of a story! One sip, then an entire can of sprite
spills out of the can. A scary accident! Thankfully I'm fine
and the four year old was not hurt!
I was reluctant to go to the zoo for several reasons.
But you have not been there for so many seasons!
It is more difficult now without legs that work
but my granddaughter begged me with so much perk!
She convinced me, and we had such a fine day!
Watching the monkey, gorillas, and giraffes in play.
I had not realized how tall they are, but from here they are like trees.
It was an October day, and there was a most gentle soft breeze.
We had a few hiccups, but that is to be expected.
But we had so much laughter, I thought we might be arrested!
So if you are hesitating to take a trip because your legs do not work
Find a granddaughter like mine who has plenty of perk!
Mental Health
aka Crazy
The very topic is inclusive of the word,
that haunts our every step from birth;
until our last breath.
Fear has no power except that which we give it.
Knowing that we are all passing away,
every day of our lives;
leaves us closer to the tomorrow we are putting off.
It is here and at our door,
in front of us now.
Bucket lists and things to do.
Suddenly no paper to write them down.
No items yet attained now unattainable;
changes without notice.
Hearts skip,
tests come back wrong.
It matters not at all the rhyme or reason,
only that the season has changed.
Memory fades.
Loved ones with cancer.
Victim or caregiver...
the outcome of damage reflective only
in the ultimate loss of all that dreams meant.
Bipolar, skizo, opioids and mary j...
Desperate for a normality which never actually existed.
The truth of our continuation...
a relationship with God.
As only He;
is yesterday,
today,
and forever.
A Thanksgiving Day Reminder
Oct. 3rd 1789
President Washington,
Made a Proclamation.
That all American’s everywhere,
All across our glorious nation.
Should set a special day aside,
To spend eating and in prayer.
To thank our Gracious God,
For the blessings we now share.
******
It’s not about a Roasted Turkey,
Sweet-taters or green beans.
It’s about all His blessings,
What today that really means.
He was there when we were starting,
He’s been with us through fierce wars.
Has shown us His great mercy,
Fought at home or foreign shores.
So with His help, we’ve prospered,
Through His wisdom we have learned.
As nations watched our progress,
A place of leadership we’ve earned.
So on this special day we share,
Let us be mindful, whence it came.
Keep our hearts and minds on Him,
For it may not always be the same.
So with that solemn thought,
I will add this festive cheer.
Spend now the day enjoying it,
With loved ones, near and dear.
Written by oldbuck to pass around the neighborhood to remind each of us, the significance of the day. Maybe someone will ask a child or grandchild to read it before the meal as a conversation starter.
'My' biggest mistake was being born a girl
I was never going to meet your expectations for you wanted a
Son and you got me ...mum said to you ‘I was the next best thing’
That’s maybe why you treated me and my sister
Anne so differently - she was like a princess
Kept by you and mum, never having to work
Even now she treats me like a second class citizen BUT
Now you are no longer here I am finally free from the past
There are no words to express my
Heartfelt sorrow at the way you treated me
All I wanted was to be loved by you but
That love was never ever there for me
You never acknowledged anything I achieved
Or the fact I gave you your only grandchild
Unwanted unloved that’s how I was made to feel by you
Looking back over my life has been difficult
Only recently I discovered the full extent of the
Variance between the way you treated us both during your lifetime
Except one thing you could never take away from me was my
Determination to stand on my own two feet and be my own person
Maybe life could have been different if you’d got the son you wanted BUT
Everything I have I worked for and I am proud of who I am
My Biggest Mistake Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
This is probably the most personal poem I have ever written but it has been so cathartic to finally put this down on paper and put my ghost to bed. Maybe in time I will finally grieve for my father, but I have been told by Hospice that this could take many years.
07~04~16