Love You Grandchildren
Calling the grandparents,
May make them happy,
When calling itself a problem,
How to make them happy?
When the thorns were sown,
in the young hearts,
When the ill memories are planted,
in the young thoughts,
When the bacterial and viral words were introduced,
to develop immunity,
Children have become immune to love and affection,
when they are old.
Be kind to your grandchildren,
when they are young
so they will be kind to you,
when you are old.
Be neutral to your grandchildren,
when they are in the cousin crowd,
so they will be neutral to you,
when you are in the elderly crowd.
Be generous with love to your grandchildren,
when they are sick and troubled
and they will be generous to you,
when you are really ill and worried.
Be the grandparents to your grandchildren,
As they do not have any other grandparents,
but you.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Related quotes
A Peom For K. (The Banker With All The Conflicting Interests)
i shall now write
a poem for my happiest day,
it is all about an old, scheming and fraudulent
woman
stacking all her money and the money of the other
people
inside her room
inside her house and inside
her bigger storehouses
she says
these are all for her children
and grandchildren and the children
of all her grandchildren and
all the coming children of more
grandchildren & great great grandchildren
what is mad about this is
that she is taking the money due
to other people who are hungry and innocent
and gullible
but she is a very
wise woman and she gets what she wants
she gets what she all wants
practically everything that her hands can
hold her eyes can see
perhaps
forgetting that soon she will be
made to pay for the price of her greed
and avarice and dirty schemes and
foul techniques and it will be for all
her children and grandchildren and the children
of all her grandchildren and
all the coming children of more
grandchildren all the coming children of more
great grandchildren &
great great grandchildren
...and then justice shall reign
but when it comes
i shall not see this event anymore
but i will be happy
>>>ii
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why do grandparents and grandchildren get along so well? The mother.
quote by Claudette Colbert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy.
quote by Sam Levenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write to tell my grandchildren where they come from, and what their grandparents were up to, and I hope they will in their own way continue. I invite anyone else to listen in.
quote by Arthur Hertzberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gratitude in chain
I loved my children
For my parents loved me.
I love my grandchildren
For my grandparents loved me.
Let me help someone
To repay the help given me.
02.03.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I have never experienced being madly in love the way most people seem to have been, although it is not something I would miss. Instead I have had an enormous ability to love my children and my grandchildren and my great grandchildren.
quote by Astrid Lindgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Auntie Zousy
auntie zousy works
as caregiver for years in chicago
to raise her grandchildren
she sent her children
to the university and they got married
and got separated from their husbands
messy, the life of auntie zousy had
always been messy but she survives
somehow
always on the go
finding work as caregiver in the
united states of america
she's 75 now and on her birthday
a party is tendered
surrounded by her 30 grandchildren or so
and inside the grand old house
of her ancestors
the laughters redound
reverberating the happy sounds
of a big family
i look at her
she is short, and emaciated and
her cheekbones show that she is not at all well
sickly, that is what auntie zousy is now
bent and misshapen
and yet in her silence
she has not surrendered
to the sacrifices of
love for the family
her grandchildren now sing
her a happy birthday
and she blows her 75 candles
in one swift breath
suddenly the room is dark
and smoke rises in the air
and she makes her
silent wish and then the lights
are turned on and laughter
follows as it will always will
happy, so happy, that is what
my auntie zousy is all about
a life of sacrifice
a lifetime of service
a life full of family laughter
a life full of love
age has not stolen
what she has treasured
now she waits for something
more exciting
perhaps, a happy death
a funeral surrounded by all
the grandchildren she always loved
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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She Gave Birth in a Fox-Hole
Victoria Elizabeth Borg
Born June 22,1920 in Agana, Guam
Died Pearl Harbor Day 2009
Victoria sang many lullabies
to her
5 children
5 step-children
26 grandchildren
36 great grandchildren
2 great-great grandchildren
and a host of heavenly nieces and nephews.
She was married to Tomas T. Calvaron and his 5 children
on the island of Guam in 1943.
After giving birth to her daughter Rosalita
in a fox-hole during World War II
she made it through
to have 4 more children.
In 1950
she was widowed and remarried to her
brother-in-law.
She passed on to be with the Lord
surrounded by her children and granchildren.
We
her many friends and family members
will keep her memory in our minds
and her love in our hearts
until we meet again.
poem by Bob Genevro
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In the spirit of Rumi - 50 - One Thing
Oh the pleasure, the happiness,
the delight, the joy, the bliss,
of doing just one thing above all!
When I was a child, I did many things;
that’s right for children – there’s the world,
go play in it; ask, what’s a horizon? but what
lies beyond? and why can’t I see angels
if angels can see me? …
When I was a young man, I did many things;
that’s right for young men – which one will I love?
which one will love me? And when we’ve together found our love,
oh what then? and oh what then?
But now I’m older, there seems less time
for many things; they will look after themselves
without my help… so, what delight
to give oneself to just one thing…
one thing at a time; and then
one thing…
and it seems, it doesn’t matter what;
roses need an expert to collaborate
in dreaming up new beauty from an older stock;
dogs need exercise, and a two-legs to look up to;
grandchildren are born to love grandparents
in a special way..
and, duties done, and hearts served well,
one thing…it might be poetry,
in which to say, look, all this
I’ve received: here’s recognition,
acknowledgement, and gratitude…
and the other things, like sleeping, eating,
become day by day like living in someone else’s poem;
someone else committed to one thing…
and then one day, perhaps,
life’s curtain twitches; and some great being
looks in the window, the very moment you look out;
and ‘one thing’, in the most natural way,
becomes…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Father’s Death
He had had six children,
Fifteen grandchildren and
Many great grandchildren.
He died with a son by.
Others didn’t see him last
And didn’t repent either.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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At this stage I am not involved with young adults as closely as many other writers. My children are grown up and my grandchildren are still quite young.
quote by Margaret Mahy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Dad's Fault!
Great grandchildren…
More that just a few
Grandchildren…
Got a lot of them too
Lot's of happy
Lot's of sad…
Lot's of goodness
And a bit of bad
A few deaths…
Lot's of life
Many fantasies
Just one wife
Many lives created
Most due to chance (or luck)
It all started on a warm summer evening
In the back of my dad's ol' pickup truck
The lightning bugs were glowin'
The hormones were flowin'
The attraction was growin'
And we were too young to be knowin'
Of the consequences of that summer night
And all the joy and heartbreak to be
Well…It was all my dad's fault…
This patchwork quilt of family
It all began
when I held out my hand
And he gave the pickup's
key to me
I think he knew all the while
What was goin' to be in store for me
Cause he had a bittersweet smile
As he handed me that key
poem by David Whalen
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When We See The Young As We Once Were
When we see the young as we once were
When we know the pain and poignance
Of our never being able to be young again,
The only way of escape perhaps
Is to look at our children and grandchildren
And dream Youth will be for them
Happier and longer than it was for us
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Ode to Mom
I wish you was here
Happy mother's day
I know if you was here
you would be proud
of your son he is in college
now Villa Maria to
be exact wish you was
But I know you in heaven
and I wouldn't haven't any other
way you happy so am I
you up there with your father
my aunt, my grandparents,
your grandparents,
and with jesus himself
so I am happy for
you and before I go
happy mothers day
and happy belated
birthday and if you
were here you would
be 55 Rip to you all
day everyday
peace and love
from your son
William Shomari Khilil Perry 4th.
poem by Khilil Perry
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Wilber Jean
I have a grandpa named Wilbur Jean
He hails from a small town in ol' Kaintuck
Someone gave him the handle 'Web', it stuck
He married his sweetie, Loleta Ruth
She gave him four kids, two of each
Oh yes, four! That's no figure of speech
He went to war, went to work, went to church
She fed the family and washed the pan
They drove the 'Blue Goose', a Ford sedan
Now my 'Pa' is turning ninety, a major milestone
Wow! Grandchildren, great grandchildren, and beyond
Four generations of us their love has spawned
Happy birthday, Pa. We love you!
poem by Charles Hancock
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We need to work our level best in this legislative session to help grow Montana's economy, so that grandchildren can stay in Montana, grandchildren can visit their grandmother and grandfather by driving across town, not flying across the country.
quote by Brian Schweitzer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They Came From Distant Places
They came from distant places to this far southern shore
The men who built the city at rest forever more
Some of them could not speak the language but they were strong and young
And they were willing workers and their praises ought be sung
The men who built the city their grandchildren old today
They worked hard to support their wives and families from their old homeland far away
They built the factories, homes and railways and they worked hard for their pay
The men who built the city for years with Nature lay
No monument built to them no last post for them played
For the men who built the city there was never a parade
Only their direct descendants would have heard of them by name
To be honest and hard working is never a claim to fame
The men who built the city their praises remain unsung
And today their grandchildren are not what one would call young.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Old Age Doesn't Come Alone... Not At 53
Where does it come from old age
I took my family grandchildren included
To the beach today only to find out
That people who are unfit are excluded
Not to say I didn't try to reach the beach
'Come on Grandad! ' shouted my boys
But grandad was too ill for the beach to reach
So sat on an old wooden bench and viewed from afar
The shenannigans of my daughter playing in the surf
Made me so envious to be young again.
But I'm only fifty three with a heart of ninety
So thus it must remain until the hospital sort my problems
Without good odds I have been informed
My passing may be sooner rather than later
But I'd rather a day of running on the beach and my heart burst
Than to have to hear my grandchildren shout once again
'Come on grandad last one there is a rotten egg! '
poem by Craig Anderson
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All Alone
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
HER CHILDREN GROWN
WITH FAMILY OF THEIR OWN
SHE WONDERS WHAT HAPPEN
CHILDREN ALL OF THREE
THEY HAVE GROWN LIKE FRUIT UPON THE TREES
GRANDCHILDREN SHE HAS SIX
GETTING HARDER TO REMEMBER THEIR NAMES
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
NO ONE COMES TO VISIT
HER GRANDCHILDREN DOESN, T KNOW HER
HER CHILDREN HAS FORSAKEN HER
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE LOVED HER CHILDREN DEARLY
WANTED NOTHING BUT THE BEST
WORKED HARD AND WENT WITHOUT
HER CHILDREN SHE WOULD DIE FOR
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE WONDERS WHY
SHE THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE AROUND HER
LIKE ALL MOTHERS DO
GET TOGETHERS ON SUNDAYS
SEE A MOVIE OR TWO
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
SHE REEKS HER BRAIN
WONDERS WHAT DID SHE EVER DO
TO GET SUCH COLD TREATMENT
FROM THE BABIES SHE ONCE KNEW
SHE SITS THERE ALL ALONE
THE ANGELS CAME AND CARRIED HER HOME
poem by Verna Ralph
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Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.
quote by Alex Haley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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