Granddaughter Love Poems | Examples
These Granddaughter Love poems are examples of Love poems about Granddaughter. These are the best examples of Love Granddaughter poems written by international poets.
My vacant thoughts were suddenly occupied.
My granddaughter approached with her worry,
asking, “If I was going to die.”
I had to stretch my lie
into immortality;
wrap my assurance around her —
a temporary sleight of hand, until
she figures out the trick.
I wasn’t going anywhere, unlike
her other grandpa, who had boarded
an early celestial train, she explained —
a gentler fabrication that will run out of tracks.
The forecast ahead calls for bittersweet tears,
mixed feelings, and periods of sorrow,
until the recurring clouds of reluctance lift.
Dad’s mom was going on a trip.
I couldn’t come with.
I had begged and pleaded with her.
A firm “no” led to my tears and anger.
I was used to getting my way.
Now, as a grandfather, once again —
clouds are starting to gather.
My grandmother's hands
knew things mine have forgotten,
how to make bread rise,
how to hem a dress
so it would last.
She saved everything:
buttons in mason jars,
stories in the space
between stirring and serving,
love in the way she said
my name.
This is what we lose
when we move too fast,
the slow art of remembering,
the patient work
of passing things down.
Her kitchen was a kind of church
where recipes were prayers,
and every meal
a small act of keeping
the world together.
Now, I try to learn
what she never had to teach:
how to make something
with my hands,
how to turn memory
into bread,
into words,
into something
that will feed
the ones who come after.
Each story I tell my daughter
is a vote against forgetting,
a way of saying:
this mattered,
we mattered,
you matter too.
A Daughters Gift
In life’s grand play, a gift came not just once,
But twice, in forms of joy and tiny feet.
Two stars, my granddaughters, my heart’s response,
A blessing, twice over, and oh so sweet.
From you, my child, they came, a mirrored pair,
Reflecting back our past, our love, our ties.
In their bright eyes, I see your youthful flair,
And in their laughter, our family's spirit flies.
These little ones, with hands so small yet strong,
Hold our tomorrow in their gentle grasp.
In them, our stories, our dreams, prolong,
A future bright, in their tiny hands clasped.
A daughter’s gift, in double measure true,
Two granddaughters, life’s love forever anew.
The smell of possibility,
the taste of tomorrow,
the feel of your small hand in mine,
these are what I treasure as your Paddhu.
Part of me will go on in this world,
but part of me will always be that guardian
watching in the garden of your becoming,
offering my voice like gentle guidance,
knowing that the promise will never end.
Sweet child of my child,
my love for you grows like wildflowers,
untamed, persistent, returning season after season.
This is my promise, planted in the soil of your becoming!
I am here, I believe in you, always.
I remember your hug
Arms wrapped around me with love
We'd rock back and forth
Like the swing on my porch
And you'd squeeze me so close
I still miss that the most
A little dance with our feet
And a soft kiss on my cheek
Later this year
Sick and full of tears
I layed next to you in the hospital not knowing it was possible
Your hand clenching mine
By God's perfect design
Two hands interlaced
Love cannot be erased
I wish you were still here
With no pain and no tears
But as I grieve for you alone
I'll remember you are now home
My sweet G
Your memories will always be with me
More
More than the dust underfoot,
which in the beginning
was sculpted into humanity…
More than rivers running
from mountains to quench
thirst and calm the spirit…
More than reading the classic
stories that fill libraries…
I await life’s gift of hearing
your voice sing to my heart
of your passing days.
**This poem is written for our grand-daugher Scarlet now re-united with us after being kept from any contact for a decade. She turns 16 this month.
I love colors – loud, juicy, wild, generously wonderful colors
I wish I liked coloring books, because this hobby would be cheaper
But no, I love paints and canvases. Especially acrylic paints.
I think oils are more vivid, but they take too long to dry.
I am an impatient artist. I do not want to wait three days between colors.
I started this hobby when my granddaughter was nine.
I know because she begged me to paint with her.
She is now nineteen, and I have fifteen hundred paintings.
I lie. I have over fifteen hundred paintings.
I work on my new ones simultaneously.
I am currently working on eight, but four more are lying in wait.
I buy canvases in bulk now, because I utilize so many of them.
I am sure my supplier thinks I am a teacher, with classes.
No, these supplies are all mine.
Coloring books would be cheaper
But I am not concerned about the cost.
I love to paint; it relaxes me.
It gives me a purpose, a mission.
Hours at a time flow by, without me realizing it.
I am lost in the life of make believe and color.
I can think of no better way to end my days.
What a wonder you are!
A gift from the universe,
The practical one.
Always so poised
Even when afraid
You are your mother’s child
Always knowing what you want
And getting what you need.
Your star will never burn out.
In your quest to succeed
There was never a question.
A friend, a daughter, and more
Now a bride, beautiful in lace.
My heart swells with pride and love.
My first Granddaughter Saya
I got to hold you
That it made my heart whole
You are growing fast
Which is an awesome blast
I love you so
As each day goes
Hugs for you
And kisses to
I miss you
My beautiful Granddaughter Daphne
You make me so very happy
You are growing each day
Which makes me very happy I say
Grandma loves you
Hugs and kisses too
This week’s a school vacation
And my grandkids are away,
Yet Hadley, 8.5 years old,
Connects with us each day.
They’re in a different time zone
So she FaceTimes when she wakes
And converses from the bathroom
For her sleeping parents’ sakes.
She fills us in on things she’s done
And places they have seen.
It’s wonderful to see her face,
All smiles, on my phone’s screen.
Her brother doesn’t care to talk
Unless it’s face to face,
But Hadley reaching out’s
An act of love we can embrace.
Dear Asia.
Under the canopy on an Autumn day,
Our hearts beaming with so much to say,
We would have walked along the countryside.
To take in the beauty of wide open spaces,
With smiling faces, we would have taken a slow drive.
On dark nights when clouds have hidden stars from sight,
We would have listened to the whispers of the wind.
But now, my heart is very broken over what could have been.
Your grandma and I were preparing to love on you very tenderly.
Oh, papa girl, I pleaded with our Lord to not allow you to be
Taken away from me, but I'll be okay. Good bye for now.
Love. Grandpa.
I went out picking apples...with my granddaughter and grandson
My grandson had his basket all filled up, but my granddaughter...
she had "ONLY"- one
There were plenty apples on the trees,
and just as many of them on the ground
But none of them had looked so good...
then the one that she had found
It looked so red and so delicious.
I would have loved a bite or two
But when I said to my granddaughter...
"you're gonna love that apple"
She said- "No papa...that one's for you"
For My Mother and My Dayghter
9/23/2023
I whispered, “ Mom, I’ll take you home.!
No nursing home halls will you walk, all alone.
Your bedroom, at my house is bright and all ready.
And to care for you, Mom, my hand is steady!”
Elena, my daughter, an Angel in disguise.
Played an equal part, young, but very wise!
I recall the fear when Mom’s heart stopped!
I jumped on her bed, began CPR non- stop!
Elena, at the same time ,called the paramedics .
I kept working on Mom, I felt I needed a strong anesthetic.
They shared, it was me, not they, who saved her life…
“Most people usually stand there and don’t do thing!”
So if you do not know CPR, please take a course.
One need not be old for their heart to suddenly stop.
Instead of writing poetry or prose all day?
Learn CPR, don’t let a friend or relative pass away.
My Mom lived for eight more great and full years~
For that! I am most grateful, yet I miss her still. With tears.
Dedicated to my Daughter, Elena, and to my late Mother.
We always watched out for, and cared deeply for each other!
She danced into my life three years ago
as if she'd been born with Angel wings.
My granddaughter, Eloise; a star aglow,
twirling in a ballerina skirt as she sings...
words of Taylor's song, "I'll write your name."
Summer was filled with playing house for us,
and a visit two blocks away to a Snowball stand.
For Elle, it was never a decision to make a fuss
of a flavor to choose as we walked, hand in hand.
She only cared about which color. It was a game.
The painting I posted was from a photo of her
sitting on the shelf as her blue ice treat was made.
Days spent with Eloise are like a sweet liqueur,
and the bond of affection we share will never fade.
She has a baby sister, Grace. I love just the same.