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Grandparents Poem – Poems About Grandparents

Our grandparents are the most loving people in our families next to our parents. But there is something special and different with the love of grandparents. They feel like home, and they remind us of our sweet childhood. One of the best things that our grandparents do is making us feel like we are the best child in the world. They appreciate and are proud of our achievements, even the smallest ones. They are kind and patient with our mistakes. They love us unconditionally despite the distance and the time you have been apart. Take this moment to thank your grandparents for their love.

Browse through our collection of poems at 1Love Poems for your next writing inspirations and ideas, and have your readers talking about the themes that you love.


Grandparents – Poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

Who shapes the destiny of the children?
and make the home real heaven
it is not the parents alone
but grandparents on the scene
a parent may not be able to look after
their children and go after the commercial activities
the grants parents look after well
and tell them real moral stories
the children come up with good faith
and remain scared of death
that comes from the evil intentions
this build their inner inhibitions
they become not only fearless
but face the odds
with bravery and stubbornness
and come out with success
the entire credit goes to the grandparents
but present them
with an alternative
and make them think subjective
even if they have a poor background
they have certainly found
the soft corner for children
and they always remain happily driven

My Grandparents’ House – Poem by Jacqueline C Nash

I  stand outside the house
lost in my childhood memories.
Remembering Whiskey the dog
who used to sleep in the road
which is now full of parked cars.
Whiskey, who would swim in the river
and come back home soaking wet.
Whiskey, who used to protect me.
I want desperately to knock on the door
and ask them if I can come in.
I want so very much to see inside,
to see if anything remains the same
and to see what has been changed.
I’d like to view the back garden too,
where I used to sit on the door-step.
The garden which used to be crazy paved
and edged with pretty flower beds.
It had a large brick coal bunker
and of course, there was Grandad’s shed.
The front of the house looks different,
the door and windows all replaced.
This was the house where I was born.
This was my Grandparents’ house.
My Nanna and Grandad were special
and I loved them both so much.
They’d produced sixteen children
but three had died before I was born.
In this house I’d lived my first three years,
and I’d stayed here in the school holidays.
Nearly every Saturday after shopping
we would come here from Enfield Town for tea.
So many of us gathered here,
everyone mucking in together.
There was always so much going on,
the chattering, teasing and laughter.
Cooking and the smell of home made cakes,
the piano, not to forget the wooden radio.
The huge square table we all sat around,
where I remember us all picking winkles with a pin.
We would come here for Christmas,
fibre glass cobwebs on the Christmas tree.
We thought these days would go on forever,
thought the house would always be here for us,
but, when I was eleven Nanna passed away.
Grandad was still recovering in hospital
after having a terrible motor bike accident.
When he got home he made a decision,
a decision that shocked us all.
He decided to sell the house.
This house so full of memories.
The last Saturday we visited this house,
walking in the dark to catch the bus home,
Mum had tears rolling down her cheeks
and I knew this was the end of an era.
If only I had the courage to knock,
but instead, I continue to stand outside,
remembering.

Grandparents – Poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet

Will others remember me
When from this Mortal Life I slip?
As I remember those of my forebears,
Who did before me live.
Today I remember my Mother’s Mum,
For it is the Anniversary of her death,
And think that if it wasn’t for her,
There would for me have been no birth.
Children always remember parents,
When from this Life they take leave,
Taken by HIM who Rules on High,
To rest near HIS Majestic Seat.
But we should not forget our Grandparents,
For without them where would we be?
Never to grace Life or this World,
Or to have sat on our parents’ knee.
It is easy not to commemorate
The time they spent on Earth,
To remember how they lived their lives,
And were responsible for our parents’ birth.

To Our Grandparents With Love – Poem by Ethel G. Baer, R.N., R.A.

Grandparents give love while Parents are doing their chores
Grandchildren say, “Give us your time and love us some more”.
Grandparents teach us nice things to know and take us places
They are the reason why we have happy looks upon our faces.
They buy us books and other gifts to make our lives more carefree.
We are glad to be your grandchildren, branches of the family tree
We are the third generation from which future greatness may stem
Grandparents seldom scold us and we try to be good and please them

Grandparents – Our Best Buddies – Poem by Divayum Gupta

Grandparents are a gift of god,
Who love us a lot.
They are old and have grey hair,
But are full of love and care.
They help us each day,
In all possible way.
They are very wise,
And always give us good advice.
They often tell us stories,
Of great leaders and their glories.
They help us in our studies,
And are our best buddies.
Blessed are those children,
Who always help their Grandparents.
Helping them is our pleasure,
And their blessings are our treasure.

Source: Poemhunter
https://www.poemhunter.com/

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