Grandchildren Poem
This poem is about my grandbaby Eme who lost her grandpa Quintin the day after she turned three. They had a love that was like no other, grandpa's little silly will miss him forever
Grandpa's Little Silly
©
Barbara Bailey
He was always there for her right from the very start,
This precious little girl captured his heart,
Though they shared no blood and skin color wasn't the same,
little Eme knew him by only one name,
Grandpa she'd say, I love you so much,
It would go right to a place that only she touched,
He'd call her his silly and she'd give him a smile,
But his time with her was just a short while,
Quintin left this world the day after Eme turned three,
Leaving so many wondering how could this be,
But Eme still says I love you grandpa and she says it extra loud,
Cause she wants grandpa Quintin to hear it from way up in the clouds,
This precious little girl captured his heart,
Though they shared no blood and skin color wasn't the same,
little Eme knew him by only one name,
Grandpa she'd say, I love you so much,
It would go right to a place that only she touched,
He'd call her his silly and she'd give him a smile,
But his time with her was just a short while,
Quintin left this world the day after Eme turned three,
Leaving so many wondering how could this be,
But Eme still says I love you grandpa and she says it extra loud,
Cause she wants grandpa Quintin to hear it from way up in the clouds,
Advertisements
© Permissions |
| Previous Poem << Grandchildren |
Next Poem Jessica Poem >> |
| More poems by Barbara Bailey | |
| Read More Grandchildren Poems | |
|
Liked this poem? You might also like |
|
Has this poem touched you?
Share Your Story
Select a Tab
Custom Search
Feedback |
Contact Us |
FAQ |
Forums |
About Us |
Privacy Policy |
Advertise
The copyright of all poems on this website belong to the individual authors.
All other content on this website is Copyright 2006 - 2013 by Family Friend Poems
All other content on this website is Copyright 2006 - 2013 by Family Friend Poems


There both in heaven, my mother tells my wonderful stories, grandfather delivered the mail and grandma tending house kids as they did in those days. Italy a town called Rosette they had camp fires, they go to corner bakery the only one. I wish I met them so I could have my own memories. My mom said grampa and grandma told the kids stories took them to church and fairs, Easter was a big celebration.
Lucy Nocella Submitted 11/13/2012
Share ›