I Wish I Could
I wish I could tell you I love you
I wish I could take back those times I did not
But I can't and I never can
I wish I could take back those times that I was mean
That I had an attitude
But I can't and I never can
I realized to late what you mean to me
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you….I'm sorry for my tears
You saved me from the orphanage where you were forced to go
You saved my baby brother's life but I never said thank you
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you…..I'm sorry for my tears
I can never again hug you
I can only see your smile in your pictures
I can never ask about the wars you fought in
I can never hear your stories again
Grandpa I love you
Grandpa I miss you…….I'm sorry for my tears
I wish I could tell you I love you
But I can never do it again
poem by Rachel Dowd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Grandpa Told Me So
(mark alan springer/james dean hicks)
If you dont get in the water youre never gonna learn to swim
He said a snake is just as scared of you as you are of him
He could tell by the moon when the fish would bite
Seems there was nothing that he didnt know
And as a kid I believed cause grandpa told me so
He talked daddy into letting me have my first car
I thought I was really something til becky thompson broke my heart
That first taste of love really did me in
Getting over her slow
And I knew someday I would cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
I promised him I wouldnt cry when it was his time to leave
Thats the only promise I made him I couldnt keep
He smiled from his bed and said well meet again
Somewhere down the road
And I believe cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
He said life is made for you to live
The best love is the love that you give
Therell be times when you wanna hold on but you gotta let go
And I live by those words cause grandpa told me so
Yeah and I still believe
Grandpa told me so
Grandpa told me so
I still believe
Grandpa told me so
I still believe...
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm My Own Grandpa
It was many many years ago when I was twenty-three,
I was married to a widow, she's as pretty as can be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red,
my father fell in lover with her, and soon these two were wed.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life:
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife.
And then to complicate the matter, though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.
This bouncing baby then became a brother-in-law to dad,
and so became my uncle, though it made me very sad,
for if he was my uncle then he also was the brother
of the widow's grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my step-mother.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandchild, for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother, and it makes me blue,
because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother, too.
Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
Husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.
I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You 'Were' Looking For Your Shoes
I can not find my socks.
Who misplaced them?
And why are they not in my sight?
'Grandpa? '
WHAT IS IT! ?
'I've spotted your socks.'
Okay.
Then where are they?
'Grandpa...
They are on your feet.'
Oh.
Well...
Who put them there?
'You did grandpa.
Just before you said,
You 'were' looking for your shoes.'
What are you trying to say?
You know where they are too?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Warm Milk And Toast
Warmed milk sweetened with honey
toast buttered with a thin spread of jam.
A bedtime story told by my Grandpa
times of Castles and Giants, living in some Fairy Tale land.
The warmed milk would make me sleepy
the toast would fill that nightime hunger need.
Sounds of Grandpa's soft loving voice
as he would sit on my bed and read.
My Grandpa's gone so many years ago
now I am one myself.
I warm and sweeten my Granddaughters milk
and take that same book down off her shelf.
Her eyes are wide open, as she chomps away
at the toast with butter and jam.
She tells me how much she loves me so
and just how neat of a Grandpa that I am.
I see her eyes growing heavy now
as I continue to read the story.
And am proud that I'm a Grandpa
and now can read, my Grandpa's Fairy Tale Story.
poem by Linda Winchell
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The Magic Music Box
That music box on Grandpa's wall
Was magic to my eyes
I loved to hold and try to play
that guitar, twice my size
One day, I thought of nothing else
So, when the school bell rang
I was off to Grandpa's house
To strum those strings again
I waded thru two babbling brooks
Loving every step I took
Then paused to smell the sweet incense
Of honeysuckles on the fence
They'll miss me home at suppertime
But I think dad knows he can find
His little girl at Grandpa's house
with that guitar across her lap
Then found a guitar, all her own
Would keep his little girl at home
And Happy too!, for I play well
Tho' years have passed, I love it still.
poem by Nita S. Balma
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood everyday
This missing increases day by day
I miss those days of happiness
which were full of joy and naughtiness
I miss my grandpa's magnificent love
I miss my grandma's food serve
I miss my village and my darling home
Now I am sad and alone
I was used to go garden daily evening
where I see the day changing
I play their with my friends
who were perfect in that and were legends
I miss stealing of mango from trees
I miss those mountainy friendly trees
I miss play of hide and seek
we hide on guava's great peak
I miss my fields and ponds
I miss that sweet smell of my lands
I miss the scolds of elders
I miss my village builders
I miss my grandpa's old shoulders
I miss my village's brave soldiers
I miss my cow's sweet milk
I miss my cranky and playful tricks
No one can return my childhood
And that hunt for fruits in woods
I have left my childhood very far
But I need life like that with no bar
I am hungry for that love of village
my hunger becomes more with age
In this world of stress and worries
I want back my childhood glories
Life is such a name
That plays with everyone, a different game
But in every game there is some hopeful ray
I miss my childhood everyday.
(27 march 2010, Lucknow)
poem by Shashank Dwivedi
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Bouncing Pony
Joey is an adventurous little boy
A bouncing pony is his birthday present
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Let me help you into the saddle to enjoy
Youthful squeals eagerly express intent
Joey is an adventurous little boy
Into the stirrups Joey’s feet are employed
Energy is engaged one hundred percent
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Reins are grasped by a miniature cowboy…
The eager steed bolts and away they went
Joey is an adventurous little boy.
The spirits of two generations join as one…
Their smiles and laughter are frequent
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
Motion slows as Joey dismounts and runs
Bouncing onto Grandpa’s lap and giving a hug
Joey is an adventurous little boy
Grandpa Joe’s heart is filled with joy.
(9/10/07)
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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Four Walls
(Don Rollins / Harry Stinson / D. Vincent Williams)
My grandpa farmed for a livin'
Content to live the simpler kind of life
My grandma worked in the kitchen
Awfully proud to be that farmers wife.
Chorus:
They use to say
That they got everything that they need
Each morning they wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
Here I am, ring on my finger
Grandpa's little grandson all grown up
I found my rock, and I plan to keep her
I wish they were here to see the two of us.
Chorus:
They'd be proud to know
We've got everything that we need
Each morning we wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
With the highway twice as wide
And the farmlands have divided
It's good to know that something never changes
I'm still lovin' and I'm still livin'
By those simple words of wisdom
Life and love come down to just four things.
My grandpa, Lord knows I miss him
And the way that he and grandma looked at life
And each day I count my blessings
To have that kind of love here by my side.
Chorus:
No matter what
We know we got everything that we need
Each morning we wake up
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love.
We've got everything we need
Between the two of us
Four walls, three words, two hearts, one love...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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from A Fallen Tree All Make Kindling' (dutch Proverb)
Whenever I sit under a tree I’m in my grandpas arms
My grandpa was like a tree with his strong and silent charm
He would shelter the world under his shade
And in the harshest storm he just merely swayed
He was like a tree but not the ones with big flowers
For his beauty was endurance it lasted more than mere hours
My grandpa was a tree the kind with big leaves
The kind that when cut down the whole forest grieves
He was like a tree big and gentle
He sat there and listened kind and parental
And though he was the tallest tree all around
He never looked down on the ones on the ground
My grandpa was a tree his love ran deep like roots
So even when cut down we still have loves fruits
Falling From Above
Grandpa said to cousin Jed
Sitting on the porch,
"I won't retire
But I might retread."
Seem like that guy singin' this song
Been doing it for a long time
Is there anything he knows
That he ain't said?
Sing a song for freedom
Sing a song for love
Sing a song for depressed angels
Falling from above.
Grandpa held the paper
Pretending he could see
But he couldn't read
Without his glasses on
"How can all those people
Afford so many things?
When I was young we wore
What we had on."
Mamma said, "A little love and affection
In everything you do
Will make the world a better place
With or without you.
"A little love and affection
In everything you do
A better place
With or without you."
Slamming down some late night shots
The artist and the hero compare
Those envisions and afterthoughts
For the twenty first century.
But mostly came up with nothing
So the truth was never learned
And the human race just
Kept rollin' on.
Rollin' through the fighting
Rollin' through the religious wars
Rollin' down the temple walls
And the churches' exposed sores.
Rollin' through the fighting
Through religious wars
Mostly came up with nothing...
"Grandpa, here's your glasses;
You'll see much better now,"
Said that young girl
Of Edith and Earl's.
But Grandpa just kept starin'
He was lost in some distant thought
Then he turned and he said
To that young girl,
"A little love and affection
In everything you do
Will make the world a better place
With or without you.
"A little love and affection
In everything you do
A better place
With or without you."
Hear the rooster crowin'
Down on the Double E
It's a new morning
Breaking on the green.
Bouncing off the Towers,
The sun's heading for the street
The business meeting
Window shades are drawn.
Another morning edition
Is headed for the porch
Because Grandma puts down the paper
Before Grandpa raises his fork.
A little love and affection
In every thing you do
A better place
With or without you.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Grandpas Rocking Chair for M lady Chitra
On the front porch a rocking chair
nobody uses no one dare
Nor dare they move it anywhere.
Grandpa decreed it must stay there
What grandpa said was what he meant
he left no room for argument.
He simply stated his intent
Though other folk felt different
When Grandpa died the family tried
to set his iron rule aside
You’ll rue this day their Grandma cried
Your Grandpa will not be defied.
They moved the chair to show they could
though grandma did not think they should
She warned them all that nothing good
would come of this. She understood
although she knew Grandpa was dead.
She knew he’d rise in wrathful pride
to reinforce what he has said.
His last command before he died.
The chair was moved despite her pleas.
Her warnings were not listened to.
From that day on they knew no peace
Til grandma told them what to do
The rocking chair must be restored
to where Grandpa said it should be.
They all agreed of one accord
the chair replaced immediately.
Sometimes at night it seems to be
moving gently slowly rocking
Although there’s nothing they can see
they know that Grandpas visiting.
To see his word is still obeyed.
That no one moves his rocking chair.
Nobody will they’re too afraid.
They know sometimes he still sits there.
27-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Evergreen State
'No, little Johnny, raindrops are really just
the tears of sweet angels, who cry. Cry
because of sins that people commit,
and that is why, my smart and curious boy,
we get rain so often in Washington State'.
'Oh, so we have a lot of sinners here, then
and that is why it is called the Evergreen State? '
'Well, yes. I have lived here all my life,
all my friends live here and, as to being sinners,
I think it is more because of the tears, salty they are,
they bring down moisture and salt, my boy,
that, in the end, creates the salt of the earth,
and your grandpa is part of that. No sinner.
So, when the angels cry, you can watch the grass grow.'
'But grandpa, that means the more I sin the greener
and faster the grass grows, that feeds our cows,
makes more milk, steaks for the BBQ and, of course,
more salt of the earth. Right, old man, or not? '
'Smart boy you are, if I do say so myself. Smart.
So, how are you doing in school, behaving yourself? '
'Salt of the earth, grandpa, salt of the earth.'
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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I miss you...
I miss hearing you say 'Miss. Long Legs'
I miss you showing me how to make a cake
A cake that you would make from scratch
Decorate yourself
It would take all day long
But I would sit right next to you
I miss the advice you would give me
I miss hearing your stories
Oh My Darling...
I miss the jokes you would tell me
I miss being able to call you
I miss going to your house for sunday breakfast
I miss saying 'grandma can I have more toast'
I miss going for rides with you
I miss collecting cans with you and grandpa
I miss seeing you smile
I miss the hugs you use to give me
Most of all I miss you more than ever
The day you past
It felt like my whole world caved in
I don't think I ever cried so much
The family just wont be the same
You held everyone together
Now who's going to tell me stories?
Who's going to make sunday breakfast?
Who's going to give me advice now?
Know one could ever replace you
I love you so much
I wish you where still here
I need you more than ever right now
I know your in a better place
Hopefully I will be able to see you soon
I cant wait for the day
That I can see your smile again
I miss you grandma
poem by Ashley Olson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandpa's Lake
He was sitting by himself all alone,
Down in a little corner.
Looking out of place, in the funeral home,
And away from all the mourners.
His dad walked up, and I heard him say,
Daddy can I go home?
I don't know why grandpa went away,
But he might be home alone.
I want to be there, when he gets back,
We were going fishing today.
He'll need his hooks and rods, and that burlap sack,
Where he puts the fish away.
His dad looked up, a tear in his eye,
And said 'grandpa's fishing now.'
But it's a great big lake, up in the sky,
And you can't go there right now.
He's fishing with his dad today,
They'll be fishing for some time.
They have a lot to do and say,
Cause to that lake it's a long steep climb.
They haven't seen each other,
In oh, so many years.
And grandpa's glad to see his father,
And both their eyes have tears.
And grandpa's a little boy again,
Just a fishing with his dad.
And on his face there's no more pain,
I hope for him your'e glad.
The little boy just smiled and said,
I guess I'm happy about that.
Yes for grampa I'm very glad,
But for me, I guess I'm sad.
I wanted to go fishing, with my grampa today.
But if you can take me,
To the lake, maybe the bay,
I'll go, my time is free.
I guess I'll wait to fish with grampa,
Till I can make it to his lake.
Maybe he'll find some secret spots,
I sure hope so, for my sake.
1/4/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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A Whirling Wind Uplifts a Leaf
A whirling wind uplifts a leaf
Brings childish laughter midst my grief
And though my sorrow tears at me
There’s also room for Lana’s glee.
Some said, “Don’t take her to the grave”
Why force the young to be so brave
When faced with fate? She seems okay
As long as leaves and winds will play.
And then Grandmother looks our way
I see the wrinkles, grief, and gray
But see the twinkle in her eyes
As she sees Lana’s fingers rise
To catch that leaf that seems to fly
Into my daughter’s hands; I sigh
Her laughter sounds; what can I do
Then I hear Grandpa laughing, too.
My laughing Lana played her part
For I heard Grandma’s “Bless her heart.”
And knew in mine that more than I
My daughter knew when not to cry
Yes, tears will come on future days
When we remember Grandpa’s ways
But not today—let sorrow wait
While Grandpa’s life we celebrate.
poem by Mac Wilkey
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Which love is unselfish?
Her child, she can scold and slap.
Others should not even frown on it.
It is the motherly love.
The grand child, I won’t scorn or frown.
And can’t bear her mother’s chiding.
It is the grandpa’s love.
Which love is deep?
The mother loves her child for her in future.
Grandpa loves it, though his end is not far.
Which love is great?
20.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Quick and Quiet Pee
Grandpa trapped me with gas that he passed.
The children from the playground saw me gasp for air,
And laughed.
Grandpa didn't bat an eye at me,
When I covered up my nose and pretended to sneeze!
He offered to extend to me an apology...
By saying he tried to hold the gas in,
But if he did there was nowhere around...
He could take a quick and quiet pee!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I miss my childhood
I miss my childhood,
Miss my mommy’s lap,
The lullabies that my grandpa sung,
The breakfast my granny prepared for me.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the brother-sister fights,
The way the small secrets we kept,
The days we dreamt of becoming someone big.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the friends’, who were never mean,
The teacher so caring,
The playground where we played for hours’.
I miss my childhood,
Miss my dad’s arms which did hold me and wrapped me throughout,
The chocolates he bought so frequently,
The wonder rides he took me to.
I miss my childhood,
Miss the tree where I sat for hours,
The teddy which was my life,
And the way you consoled me dad whenever I cried….
@copyrights reserved with Author.
poem by Jinal Oswal
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I remember we were all horrified to see Grandpa up on the roof with his Superman cape on. 'Get down' yelled Uncle Lou. 'Don't move' screamed Grandma. But Grandpa wouldn't listen. He walked to the edge of the roof and stuck out his arms, like he was going to fly. I forget what happened after that.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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