GRANDFATHER and ME: An Angels Kiss Poetry

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Read complete story. To celebrate is to embrace an act of wonder and joy, To show the whole world you have a girl or a boy.

A date that will be written forever in time,. Who would have thought, to my surprise, The day I looked in my daughter's eyes, That I would find my sunshine, Read Complete Poem. No comments?

Howl by Allen Ginsberg | Poetry Foundation

This is amazing, I actually teared up, I have a little girl due any day now and this poem makes me even more excited to be a father. There you are inside me, Jarek, you're on your way, I'm more and more excited and scared every day. Everything is so different and changed, Life as I've known it - all rearranged I needed a little poem to send to my niece who is expecting her first child and these words were so lovely and appropriate, it actually brought tears to my eyes.

Hero, I go into the hospital to make sure you're growing and strong, The Doctor says, "This isn't right, My 5 month old son was a full term but only weighed 4 lbs 11oz. I didn't know if he was going to live. He has club feet and is going for surgery on the 15th, so I know how it feels.

Someday, I'll stand beside you, holding your hand, to let go of a life filled with love, and though you will be gone, I'll always have the memories we've made together, Daddy Someday, I'll hold out my own child to you, and ask, "Would you like to hold your grandchild, Daddy? This is a great poem when I was 12 my dad died on his birthday of a heart attack and this poem made me cry because I miss him so much.

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A Poem for Grandpa (Modified)

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Grandfather and Me: An Angel's Kiss Poetry

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POEM; an angel's kiss

But never leave, wound, fever, trench-foot, shock, Untrapped the wretch. Yet they were vile. One dawn, our wire patrol Carried him. This time, Death had not missed.

Funeral Poems & Readings

We could do nothing, but wipe his bleeding cough. Could it be accident? Not sniped? Later they found the English ball. It was the reasoned crisis of his soul. With him they buried the muzzle his teeth had kissed.

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Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-heads Which long to muzzle in the hearts of lads. Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth, Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death. For this teeth seem for laughing round an apple, There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple; And God will grow no talons at his heels, Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.

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