The Sermon in the Stocking
The supper is over, the hearth is swept,
And in the wood-fire's glow
The children cluster to hear a tale
Of that time so long ago,
When grandmamma's hair was golden brown,
And the warm blood came and went
O'er the face that could scarce have been sweeter then
Than now in its rich content.
The face is wrinkled and careworn now,
And the golden hair is gray;
But the light that shone in the young girl's eyes
Has never gone away.
And her needles catch the fire's light
As in and out they go,
With the clicking music that grandma loves
Shaping the stocking's toe.
And the waking children love it too,
For they know the stocking song
Brings many a tale to grandma's mind
Which they shall hear ere long.
But it brings no story of olden time
To grandma's heart tonight,--
Only a ditty quaint and short
Is sung by the needles bright.
'Life is a stocking,' grandma says,
'And yours is just begun;
But I am kniting the toe of mine,
And my work is almost done.
'With merry hearts we begin to knit,
And the ribbing is almost play;
Some are gay-colored, and some are white,
And some are ashen gray.
'But most are made of many a hue,
With many a stitch set wrong,
And many a row to be sadly ripped
Ere the whole is fair and strong.
'There are long plain stretches without a break,
That in youth are hard to bear;
And many a weary tear is dropped
As we fashion the heel with care.
'But the saddest, happiest time is that
We court and yet would shun,
When our Heavenly Father breaks the thread,
And says our work is done.'
And the children come to say good-night,
With tears in their bright young eyes;
While in grandma's lap, with broken thread,
The finished stocking lies.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Silver
Nirvana- Silver
Mom and dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please don't go
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatoes and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meats too good
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
She said, well, don't you start your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
That's what I did, I killed my toe
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
Grandma take me home
I wanna be alone
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma
Knots and tangles in my hair,
grandma sitting on her chair,
me in front on a stool so low,
brushes and combs all in a row.
Grandma would wash it every day,
Saying 'We do this first, then you play.'
Waiting for the feel of every pull,
this became our ritual.
I anticipated every tug.
When we finished we would hug.
But before I'd leave she'd make a bow,
all different colors she'd use to show
that my hair was something she loved to see.
It was long and shiny black, like ebony.
I treasure her looks and the moments spent,
the combs, the brushes and her looks of content.
My grandma made me feel like a queen,
like the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.
Now as my hair is turning gray
I remember the words she used to say,
'Sit down dolly and I'll comb your hair.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Broken Girl
The light is fading faster
as her life begins
to go
the darkness comes
as her life slowly
slips away
her demons have risen
they've taken control
she's not the girl
she used to be
The girl with the
smile, the
girl with the
laugh
That girl is gone
she has died off
she left this day
the day of an honest
mistake
a mistake she will
have to die for
for her grandma will
soon know
they don't see it
for they don't know
the wrath of her grandma
they think the grandma's
sweet
they say she's not that way
She says her grandma will
take
everything she holds dear
they say they don't believe it
they say that its not true
little do they know
her grandma is of a nature
where she will take all
from the girl
all because of one
mistake
the girl will loose it all
the girl you knew will
be long gone
for she must say good-bye
all to soon you will
meat the girl she
really is
for all to soon her masks
shall drop
all to soon she will
reveal all
the masks shall drop
and many will see
just how broken that girl
really is
to soon they will see
that girl is
me
(written 9/29/10)
Grandma’s Little Angel
Grandma’s little angel is what you will be called, sent to us from the wings of another angel, heaven has a kiss of blessing with your name all around it, a loving gift from God “Grandma little Angel.”
Grandma’s little angel is who we are waiting for; I have been blessed with a grandchild that I will love forever more.
Grandma’s little angel I will truly adore, cherish the ground she walk upon, kiss her baby feet, hold her tiny hands until she falls to sleep.
Grandma’s little angel the apple of my eyes a wonderfully feeling of joy until the day I die. Little angel kiss my heart, touched my soul I can’t wait until the day comes that I could behold “Grandma’s little angel.”
Grandma’s little angel has already embraced my soul, our eyes has not yet seen the love that will soon unfold. She is my little light the fire that burns deep from within Grandma’s little Angel a kiss from heaven sent.
Grandma’s Little Angel from blossoms flowers grows, beautifully like a red wine rose touched my heart like no one really knows.
Grandma’s little angel I did not fully understand the blessing that was sent from God’s loving hand, he opened my eyes so I can clearly see the love that he in trusted in thee.
poem by Kimbaline Navas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thankless Scions
Grandma was in isolation
She was in an isle of distress
The children whom she fed
With the blood turned milk
In her breasts
Have all flown and vanished
And she left abandoned
With the linings all over
In mind and skin
Heralding the arrival
Of the frail old December
Of the life, the end of the span!
The marvelous culture
Of a house- hold adorned
With grandma and grandpa
With children and grand children
Went into oblivion!
The grandma and grandpa
Is a hindrance to their children
Is a bad omen to scions
And an inconvenience
To the young and dynamic!
Grandma and grandpa
Are ignored and caged
As of a dog or parrot
And fed like a slave
Tied to a pole in chains!
The thankless sons and daughters
Never care the sufferings
And sacrifices of Ma and Papa
And they want to be alone
As being youthful in spirit
And are eager to enjoy
The spring of life
Where they hate the face of autumn!
Grandma, Grandpa, Ma and Papa
Are omen of autumn
That they never wish to sight!
The young whose blood
Rushes with the fuel of Ma's milk
Forget that the green leaves
Will turn yellow
And wither away
And an autumn is is hibernation
To embrace them tomorrow!
poem by Vadakkumpurath Ramesan
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Bazonka
Say Bazonka every day
That's what my grandma used to say
It keeps at bay the Asian Flu'
And both your elbows free from glue.
So say Bazonka every day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Don't say it if your socks are dry!
Or when the sun is in your eye!
Never say it in the dark
(The word you see emits a spark)
Only say it in the day
(That's what my grandma used to say)
Young Tiny Tim took her advice
He said it once, he said it twice
he said it till the day he died
And even after that he tried
To say Bazonka! every day
Just like my grandma used to say.
Now folks around declare it's true
That every night at half past two
If you'll stand upon your head
And shout Bazonka! from your bed
You'll hear the word as clear as day
Just like my grandma used to say!
poem by Spike Milligan
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Grandmas Theme
Go grandma!!! go, go, go grandma!!!!!!!you know what they say. go, go, go
Grandma youll make it someday. shalalalala grandma youre doing fine. you and
Your dreams are ahead of your time!!! go go go go!!!!!
Go, go grandma ranger......
In space!!!!!!
What about grandpa? ? ? ? ?
Chorus:
Go granny, go granny, go go go granny!!!
Yeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Yeah thats right
I love u grandmama
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Grandma
Dear Grandma, I remember
When you were there for me
Dear Grandma, I remember
Your smile was a joy to see
Dear Grandma, I remember
The wonderful dinners I had
I remember how you cared
You dried my tears when I was sad
Dear Grandma, I remember
All the wonderful things you gave
You would let us play around
You would always be there to wave
Dear Grandma, I remember
All your loving care
Helping when I was sick
You were always there
Dear Grandma, I remember
That you are there for me yet
Always a comfort to me
Dear Grandma, I wont forget
Waiting
When darkness peeps gradually
The orphan boy met a little red riding hood.
She goes to her grandma's house
When she asked where he's going
He said; 'Nowhere to go.'
'First I go there and get permission from my grandma,
If she agrees to provide you lodging tonight,
I'll be hurry to you and please wait here.' She said.
But she never returned.
It happened a very long time ago
And she must be a grandma now.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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I Hear The Echo by Dr. Bhupen Hazarika (Translated from Assamese)
I hear the echo
I hear the echo
I hear the echo
I hear the echo
Of the screaming night
Carried over from the other side
Of the mountain bodering my village
I hear the echo
I train my ears but can't hear a thing
I open my eyes wide but can't see a thing
I close my eyes and think, but do not understand
I don't know how to climb a thousand mountains
I hear the echo of the screaming night
I hear the echo
May be its the tragic story of a young girl
May be its grandma's bedtime fairy tale
May be its the longing of a farmer's nursery
The tragic story of the young girl has come to an end
The bed time fairy tale of grandma has come to an end
The longings of the farmer's nursery has come to an end
The familiar song still escapes me
I hear the echo of the new cry
I hear the echo
My dark hair get tinted with morning's red hues
The panicky mist before the eyes vanishes to the blue
A thousand cries come out of a people awakened
A thousand mountains crumble in the impact of its sound
I hear an approaching storm in the sea of humanity
I hear the echo of the new cry
I hear the echo...
- Dr. Bhupen Hazarika (1953)
© Syed Ahmed Shah(Translator) , Bokultol, Guwahati.
poem by Syed Ahmed Shah
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Grandma Hepner
I know this will be the last time
The last time I get to touch your face
Embrace your welcoming smile
Hold on to you
I don't want this moment to come
I don't want to have to say goodbye
Grandma I know I am selfish
But you cannot leave me
I know I have not been there for you
When you have been with me through everything
I love you Grandma
And I do not want this to be the last time I saw you
I will miss you grandma
poem by Makayla Straight
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Missing You
Hey grandma
I know your there
Sometimes I can sense you
I hope you know that I still care
And remember all the times we went through
I’ve dealt with the fact that I’ll miss you forever
Or as long as my lifetime lasts
But I know that someday we’ll meet again
And it’s a fact, time does travel fast
As it only seems like yesterday
When I’d come to your house for tea
An I remember all the Christmases we shared
Now it’ll never be the same for me
I hate the way it ended
Because I never got to say goodbye
But in a hard, weird sense it was good
Because I would have only cried
It’s fair to say
I think of you everyday
But if I think for too long, I end up in tears
You were a strong woman, with a strong character
And I want to thank you for the years
Thank you for the memories
You’ll never die in my head
I loved the way you were outspoken
And what you thought was what you said
I love you grandma, I always will
And of you, I am a big fan
I love you grandma, I always will
An I’m proud you were my gran
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf
As soon as Wolf began to feel
That he would like a decent meal,
He went and knocked on Grandma's door.
When Grandma opened it, she saw
The sharp white teeth, the horrid grin,
And Wolfie said, 'May I come in?'
Poor Grandmamma was terrified,
'He's going to eat me up!' she cried.
And she was absolutely right.
He ate her up in one big bite.
But Grandmamma was small and tough,
And Wolfie wailed, 'That's not enough!
I haven't yet begun to feel
That I have had a decent meal!'
He ran around the kitchen yelping,
'I've got to have a second helping!'
Then added with a frightful leer,
'I'm therefore going to wait right here
Till Little Miss Red Riding Hood
Comes home from walking in the wood.'
He quickly put on Grandma's clothes,
(Of course he hadn't eaten those).
He dressed himself in coat and hat.
He put on shoes, and after that,
He even brushed and curled his hair,
Then sat himself in Grandma's chair.
In came the little girl in red.
She stopped. She stared. And then she said,
'What great big ears you have, Grandma.'
'All the better to hear you with,'
the Wolf replied.
'What great big eyes you have, Grandma.'
said Little Red Riding Hood.
'All the better to see you with,'
the Wolf replied.
He sat there watching her and smiled.
He thought, I'm going to eat this child.
Compared with her old Grandmamma,
She's going to taste like caviar.
Then Little Red Riding Hood said, '
But Grandma, what a lovely great big
furry coat you have on.'
'That's wrong!' cried Wolf.
'Have you forgot
To tell me what BIG TEETH I've got?
Ah well, no matter what you say,
I'm going to eat you anyway.'
The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickers.
She whips a pistol from her knickers.
She aims it at the creature's head,
And bang bang bang, she shoots him dead.
A few weeks later, in the wood,
I came across Miss Riding Hood.
But what a change! No cloak of red,
No silly hood upon her head.
She said, 'Hello, and do please note
My lovely furry wolfskin coat.'
poem by Roald Dahl
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Same As Here
I got home from school one day
with a dark spot on my eye
Masiter Kumedzro always say:
fighting was against the rules
so when Grandma got home I told her a story
just like I'd rehearsed some hours before
and there I stood on my trembling knees
waiting for the worst
interestingly, she did not say a word
when she got into the kitchen she called
she said son 'Let me tell you a secret
about a Grandma's love”
a secret she said was just between us
she said, “Grandma’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
when I became a father
there was no doubt my son was a stubborn boy
he was not like me but as just like my father's son
one day when I thought my patience
had been tested to the end too long
I took my Grandma's secret
and I passed it on to him
he hugged me and cried on my shoulders
last night I dreamed I'd died
and stood outside those pearly gates of Salem
suddenly, I realized, there must be some mistake
supposing St. Peter knows half the things I've done
he would never open the gate to let me in
there a deep voice spoke from the other side of the dome
and I heard those words again
it said, “Son Grandpa’s don't just love their children
every now and then, it's a love without an end, amen'
poem by Padmore Enyonam Agbemabiese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma Didn't Spend A Dime To Find Logic
Those who believe they can predict Mother Nature,
Are the same ones who perceive,
They can create the flavor and taste...
Of Grandma's award winning Sweet Potato Pie.
Only to realize,
Such predictions are a waste of time...
And money spent,
Educating themselves to 'be' Grandma.
When Grandma didn't spend a dime to find logic.
Grandma had a mind of her own.
Satisfying each and everytime AND was unpredictable!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grandma Sang A Special
Grandma sang a special in Montgomery
In the church where her youngest preached the word
He turned the tape recorder on and caught it
And still today, my Grandma can be heard
Grandma sang “I know who holds tomorrow”
And she sang it loud for everyone to hear
Today my Grandma’s singing it for Jesus
‘Cause he held a place for her in heaven’s choir
Grandma sang a special in Montgomery
And every time I hear that tape today
If I shut my eyes and listen to it closely
It seems like she is right here in this place
Grandma sang “I know who holds tomorrow”
And she sang it loud for everyone to hear
Today my Grandma’s singing it for Jesus
‘Cause he held a place for her in heaven’s choir
Grandma sings her specials now in heaven
And I’m sure that all who hear her say Amen!
I look forward to the day I’ll be in heaven
And, in person, I’ll hear Grandma sing again
Grandma sang “I know who holds tomorrow”
And I know he holds tomorrow for me too
One day he’ll come back and take me with him
‘Cause he held a place for me in heaven too
Grandma sang “I know who holds tomorrow”
And she sang it loud for everyone to hear
Today my Grandma’s singing it for Jesus
‘Cause he held a place for her in heaven’s choir
Copyright: C R Clark -9/13/08
poem by C.R. Clark
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Upright Piano
For as long as I remember, when friday night came round
The family would gather out at grandpas house.
With supper over and the dishes done
It was then the best time came
At an old upright piano that only grandma played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
Grandpa was a stubborn man, they said it was his style.
Grandma called him ornery, but she said it with a smile.
Even he could not disguise the love he felt so strong;
We all could see it in his eyes when she played his favorite song.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
I was almost 17 when my grandma died;
I stayed all night with grandpa; the old man never cried.
He sat at her piano, there was nothing we could say
It was the first time in my life I ever heard my grandpa play.
It wasnt beautiful dreamer or my wild irish rose
It was a song he played from memory & he never missed a note
I sat right there beside him until the morning came
What a friend we have in jesus was the only song he played.
She played beautiful dreamer, my wild irish rose;
She never played em perfect, but there was love in every note.
Grandpa sat beside her, in harmony they sang,
At the old upright piano that only grandma played.
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma's Silver
You met me
and I had given up.
You met me
and I took out the good china
from Grandma's hutch;
her gold-plated knives, forks and spoons
and the silver,
toasting you
that summer night
had both of us playing house.
I was the gourmet cook,
you were eating hearty
and wolfed down lustily my heart;
made me forget giving up
for giving it up
happily;
mostly from memory
and you were kind enough
not to notice
how awkwardly
and how long
my breathing took
to run to smooth.
It was the conversation
I believe
late into the night
that over-came me
re-mending those broken heart pieces
which laid themselves out carefully
on my dining room
table;
festooned
with grandma's
silver and gold-plated spoons.
We have gone on now through
paper, wood
and silver anniversaries;
golden
on our horizon;
nearing fifty years.
Thanks Grandma
for the silver-ware
and for him.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I Am From... By Ilana A. Sabio
I am from my purple and green stripped towel
from bounty and the long broom in the kitchen
I am from the dark scary attic, a coffee scented kitchen
From the rose bush hidden near my porch
The Oak tree covering my backyard
Whose long limbs I feel
As if they were my own.
I’m from Christmas and dark brown eyes
From Heather and Francis
I’m from a sweet tooth and
Sleepy heads and
From joking too much.
I’m always from listen and stand up for
Yourself and curiosity killed the cat
Mississippi and New York City
Cornbread and macaroni & cheese.
From grandma meeting her grand father
Who was once an Indian chief
Pictures of my great grandma, the great grandma on my
Mom’s side
On the wall in my room and in my sun room
Who I love dearly and miss a lot but keep her safe in my
heart.
By Ilana Sabio (my 9 years old granddaughter) See where grandma is from.
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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My sister’s fate
A man comes
To our house
To take my sister’s hands
Grandma meets him
Leads him from the floor
To the stairs
Then for a talk in the
Living room
Brings him to the
Dining room for
Light snacks
While sister arranges
Some flowers in the vase,
Grandpa stares at him
From the tip of his hair
To the tip of his toe,
And then sister and him
Have a sweet talk
On sweet nothings
Just like any lover
After a while,
He is excused
As it is dark
And grandma and
Grandpa have their
Own kind of talk,
And then tells sister,
“He is no good,
We have seen his eyes
And his footsteps
Drop him”.
But her heart beats
For him and she is ready
For future regrets.
Oh, how she follows
Her heart that loves
The man who deceives
her from the very start
(sequel follows in due time)
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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