#Grandma

301 posts
  • ashamurali 2d

    Grandma's kitchen

    Sweet memories of affection,
    was served in grandma's kitchen.
    its aroma aroused anticipation,
    of divine taste and satisfaction.

    Every dish was her expression,
    of love and perfection,
    filling us with admiration ,
    of her enthusiasm and dedication!

    She had not a single gadget,
    nor was her menu elaborate,
    her measures were approximate,
    but always turned out accurate.

    Attention she would lavish,
    making sure we relish,
    even the simplest dish,
    without grand garnish!

    With so much of her love within,
    every dish was bound to win,
    our stomach and heart,
    Grandma! our evergreen sweetheart!
    ©ashamurali

  • lovenotes_from_carolyn 4d

    This piece serves as my attempt at multiple recent challenges. Thank you so much for reading! Also, I need to request your patience in regard to reading/reposts, because as our cross country move is drawing near, my presence here will be sporadic for a month or two. Thanks for understanding and bearing with me. ♥️

    The Merchant Marine & His Irish Queen
    by lovenotes_from_carolyn
    A wild and winsome wayfarer
    Set sail with the Merchant Marines
    To a land called the Emerald Isle
    That's decked out in the loveliest greens

    'Twas perhaps the luck o' the Irish
    That led up to next event
    For there, in the naval office
    'Twas a gal who looked heaven-sent!

    A bright lass was she, named Jenny
    With brown hair and eyes of blue
    For him, it was love at first sight
    And I reckon it was for her too

    Yes, that was my gramps and my gran
    In a meeting designed by fate
    There's a whole lot more to that story
    But the hour is growing quite late

    Fast forward to one whole year later
    Oh that Irish lass, gramps sure did miss
    So he brought her back here, to the States
    Where they married, in wedded bliss

    They got on with the usual business
    Of living their day to day life
    And soon enough, gramps did discover
    He had a fine cook for a wife!

    She prepared all the food to perfection
    From hors d'oeuvres to roasted meats
    To veggies and soups and salads
    And of course, all the goodies and sweets

    Huge feasts she'd create to delight us
    Not a single time e'er did she fail
    For as soon as she'd bring out the food
    Cheers of delight would prevail

    Her pies were sweet and superb
    Her cookies, a chewy delight
    And she'd send us on home with the extras
    When we left at the end of the night

    In the chill of midwinter on Sundays
    I'd sit right by gran at her feet
    As she'd tell me the tales of her childhood
    While munching on goodies to eat

    By then, she had barely an accent
    But still, it was there in some way
    And oh, was I fond of her voice
    Which lives on in my heart to this day

    Looking back on these tender moments
    I recall the young Merchant Marine
    And I'm so glad he sailed off to Dublin
    And returned with his Irish queen.
    ©lovenotes_from_carolyn 10/12/2021

    #sundayc #momentsc #tenderc #grandma #imagery #wod #writersbay #writersnetwork #miraquill

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  • kumazy 5d

    Grandma

    I draw stories from the lines of her face.
    It tells me the patience of experience.
    A love stories drawn from the rhythm of her walk.
    Slowly but Steady.

    Her embrace, cozy and warm.
    Her laughter, melodious and assuring.
    The light in her eyes are assured spark,
    Shining in my dark days.

    From the treaties of my childhood.
    To the meal in her kitchen.
    To call received unannounced.
    And the proud gaze of her eyes.

    From love she gave All in All,
    Love pure, sure and gentle.
    Love of an ancient root, blowing like cool breeze of hope.
    Which from distant shore, often call me home.
    Like the drums of Ayangalu.

    Akinsanmi Akinkunmi©kumazy

  • v_smita_v 1w

    An Ode To Youth ~ 22 ✍��
    #RBBHWSN ��
    #WWWY ��

    #Friendship #Romance #School #Youth #Family �� #HMH #HB #3897 ⚛️ #WP #YX #20896 ��
    #ZY #LY ✡️ #ET #HM #DD ♾️

    �� The realistic portrayal of youth in all its facts.
    �� The beauty in everyday life during a time when we’re young and bold.
    �� The realistic portrayal of the pains of growing up.
    �� The subtle and innocent romance.
    �� The friendship between the classmates
    �� The relationship between teacher and students, as well as the relationship between the youths and their parents.
    �� The step by step visit to the last year in High School.

    #Personalities #Strengths #Flaws #Endearing #Charming #Warmhearted #Precarious #Intelligent #Thoughtful #Responsible #Incredibly #Handsome #Bright #Bubbly #Brave #Achievements #Sports #Perseverance #Growing #Struggling #Studies #Pressure #Path #Life #Dealing #Conflicts #Parents #Love #Tackles #Problems #Era #Laughing #Crying #Strongest #Poignant #Depiction #Relationships #Classmates #Teacher #Students #Childhood #Neighbors #Highlight #Grandma #Circumstances #Important #Person #FirstLove #Missing #Warm #Fuzzy #Feelings #Awkwardness #Insecurities #Fear #FirstStep #Clumsy #Attempts #Couple #Fret #Hope #Patient #Perfect #Music #Enhance #Experience #Nostalgia #Positive #Vibe #Beautiful #TrueGem #ceesreposts ��

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    Friends

    For some things, because we're friends, we don't need to say it out loud. Maybe we can't bring you more happiness, but as long as we're here.
    We won't let you become sadder.

    ©v_smita_v

  • kingdomdelight 1w

    Grandma's Kitchen

    Nobody, could cook like grandma
    Her flower apron and delious bakings
    made her kitchen a heavenly garden for all grandchildren to visited
    The fresh baked aroma always travelled far and filled the whole neighborhood
    From biscuits, cookies, stews and different jams
    a Kitchen,
    always tidy, neat and warm
    Never,
    touch ur try to lick a dough bucket ur spoon
    She never liked it !
    No, dirty fingers, in her buckets and cooking pot!

    In front of the green coal stove
    We patiently waited ...
    She always gave us the bucket and spoons later
    So we endure the hard temptations for a little sweet taste of her heavenly dishes later

    Cookies we could colourful decorate,
    But first ...
    wash your hands ...
    Never try to lick any tempting icing
    Those that might dripped on your little fingers ur hand,
    her sharp eyes,
    never missed,
    a single childlike try!

    She was so clever!
    She could really see and know everything!
    All the children, just, silently marvelled
    Those two blue eye,
    pierced right through us, if we did try
    So we learn to rather wait ...
    Her warm smile,
    loving eyes and exstra treat in the bucket
    was always worth the long dreadful wait.


    ©kingdomdelight

  • wtf_ankrit 1w

    Infinity

    No one insults you and love you more than your parents <3







    ©wtf_ankrit

  • rjaygrace 1w

    Grandma's Kitchen

    Sparkling.
    The definition of the mmaculate serenity.
    It sparkles like the ocean after rain
    Pots and pans stand tall like palms in their prime
    The floor mirrors her footsteps as she sways to the music in her hips
    The stove and the fire complete the aesthetic as they flow with the lyrics in her fingers.

    In grandma's kitchen,
    something is always cooking or has been cooked.
    From the well cultured beauty of soups to the reclined sweetness of popcorn.
    Whether it was a whole meal or dessert,
    grandma's hands calmed hunger's storm, always.

    My body remembers what my tongue forgot.
    My memory reminds my mind of the glory of grandma's kitchen.

    ©rjaygrace

  • rehena 1w

    Grandmother's

    And my everymorning starts with her
    From breakfast stories
    To morning brunch.
    Everytime i ask for encouragement
    She spurts out her life stories and struggles
    Telling me life is precious
    And it's not the end.

    Everydown i take blessings from her
    Only thing she says is
    You will be a great one someday
    And yes, m trying, m growing

  • john_a 1w

    Grandma

    ............Sorry Nani I have no words to explain your love for me....... RIP...
    ©john_a

  • libra_fey 1w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork thank you for the heart
    #wod #pod #grandma #ceesreposts
    Another EC!!!!!! Thank youuuuu������

    In the pink and red saree of the cotton of her heart,
    I see her looking at me with her love-dosed eyes,
    Where dwells the paradise of great Gods,
    And an ocean of gleaming fireflies,
    In my dreams of nightmares.

    She asks not me but my heart what it starves for,
    It says "nothing but solace",
    With a little smile she said "anything mi amour (my love)",
    And stirred some o(u)nions with her blessed spatula,
    Uniting my lonesome with some insane friends,
    When she met me in my dreams of nightmares,

    I stood bewitched in her kitchen,
    Wondering whether it's a magic or her blessing,
    'til I heard the sizzling singing,
    Of her next breath taking manoeuvre.

    Sizzle sparkling warmth in air like fire works,
    She performed her moves enchanting than magic,
    Spelling the food with ecstatic solace giving charms,
    Adding laughter with the yellow turmeric,
    Love n devil's strength for this demon world with the red chillies,
    And everything for a grand solace giving cuisine,
    Which the naive me never remembered in reality,
    'Cause it was a dream of my nightmare,

    With a pinch of peace giving green coriander leaves,
    She garnished it with her eternal love,
    She served my stunned heart the dish,
    Which it always called 'my grandmother's gift',
    That tasted like a whole new life,
    Which she adorned with her blessing hands,
    That gave me solace on this thorny world.
    She gave me this in my dreams of nightmares.

    //I never saw my grandma in real but for me, every good thing's one of all reason is her blessing and love and of course her guidance in my dreams of nightmares//

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    Dreams of Nightmares

    Blessing my life
    I never saw her from my pity eyes
    But I know she is the reason
    For my life to be a paradise

    ©libra_fey

  • poetrycity 1w

    //from the pov of a seven year old child who was made to leave grandma's house by his parents//
    I miss the taste of your handmade cakes,old shiny plate with some haldi and ghee for tilak on my every birthday,I miss that sweetness in batashe,milk with jaggery you used to serve me every evening.
    I miss those laddus you used to distribute among my friends.
    ©poetrycity

  • thestral_queen 1w

    She is so strong ❤
    she is just a beautiful lady with kind heart ��
    And having lovely soul ��
    You know when she wake up at the morning ��
    Her face had a different glow ✨
    Starting from morning tea for all��
    Her duty starts in the kitchen��
    She never like any messed up things ��
    She has certain rules while she is cooking ��
    No one should disturb her ��
    No one should interfere ��
    She always makes sure that everything should be neat and clean ��
    Her hands are having magic ��
    That makes a dish so tasty ��
    Her handmade MUTTON, everyone's favorite ��
    Her handmade KHIR, everyone's gonna have a good taste ��
    And her special treatment towards me because am her first granddaughter ��
    The way my BOU carry me, The way she just loves me, even now also, it's makes me feel so precious ��
    Ya from last some years it's so difficult for me, my whole family to watch my grandma in pain who is suffering as psychiatrist patient �� ��
    She is not able to remember all things but she remember her QUEEN (me),her whole family, her relations, and her love still constant ��.....
    I miss her activities ��
    I miss her every moment ��
    But I know she will get well soon ��
    I love my nani so so much �� �� to the square of infinity♥.....

    #grandma #wod #mirakeeassistant #miraquillapp
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

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    Bou (AAI- means nani)❣.....

    ©thestral_queen

  • nibras 1w

    Paint peeling from sad walls- in my grandma's kitchen
    Her old, lined hands caressing the familiar shelves;
    Hands lined with wrinkles cradling harsh lines of fate

    Old as time- that grimy stone counter;
    The tiles were from another era
    It wasn't an eyefeast out of a catalogue -My grandma's kitchen

    Remembrance strikes a note of pang now
    But back then little did I know
    My soul was feasting where the eye felt sore- In my grandma's kichten

    It smelled of cinnamon, cardamom and cloves
    On the stove she always brewed for me a pot of love
    I didn't know I was thriving in it- in my grandma's kitchen

    #grandma

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    Cloves and Cinnamon

    ©nibras

  • tellastory2world 1w

    Grandma's Kitchen

    Not always does she enters the kitchen,
    But when that happens,
    the ongoing tradition from decades,
    comes alive,
    in the form of mouth-watering smell,
    delicious taste,
    with a touch of experience,
    a happy heart and a stomach full of affections,
    and a moment for remembrance.
    ©tellastory2world

  • ambi_16 1w

    I still remember her kitchen's promise
    "No one will sleep without a meal"
    By throwing off some tantrums
    And then saying no to food
    Were some of my customs
    To rebel, to prove, to brood
    All but Grandma would go off to bed
    Instead, she would fix me a meal,
    As quickly as she could
    A morsel in one hand
    And wiping my tears with other
    She would make me eat out of her hand
    To that I could never say "Enough"
    I could see Goddess of food in her
    Who fed me bites,showered love
    And every time my lil heart moved a mile
    "Must you know, I yearn
    for that nourishment of love
    ~for you only knew its recipe
    to cook and to feed"

    ©Ambi



    #grandma #wod #miraquill @writersnetwork

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    "Must you know, I yearn
    for the nourishment of love
    ~for you only knew its recipe
    to cook and to feed"


    ©Ambi

  • shaiz_fs 1w

    A place full of saccharine emotions
    A place devoid of wicked notions
    A place where love blends with flavour
    A place where our childhood savour

    The old chimney which emits smoke
    Was a treat to watch for we little folks
    The roti made by grandma was no less than art
    It was so accurate like a circle in geometry class

    There is something very fancy about Grandma's kitchen
    We all dream of time travelling for once in a life.
    ©shaiz_fs

  • ira_neer 1w

    #wod #pod #grandma #writersnetwork

    After reading wonderful poems on this topic by other participants, I couldn't stay behind. So, spilled my fond reminiscences on the mirakee platform. Slurp it readers.��

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    My queen

    Wobbling on her aged convex legs
    She entered the kitchen, her absolute domain, to rule
    Kept spic and span with no cobwebs
    She ordered the cooks to ignite the hearth's fuel

    She would perch upon the giant tawny golden teakwood
    A 12 seater dining table, where family gathered for food
    The table near the kitchen stairs, in an undeliberate way was so staged
    Not chair but table's easy to sit was the choice her rheumatic self made
    And from there she then instructed and assisted her two chefs
    About the day's menu to prepare for the gods, the family and the guests

    Powdered spices, the mango, lemon and some other pickles
    Made annually by season and stored
    in clean white muslin sealed huge brown and ivory ceramic jars
    Contributed towards the family's replete pantry
    Pacchhadi, pulaavs, bajji, parothas, spicy coconut curries,
    Endless recipes in list with sambar, rasam, wadas and kababs
    Homemade savouries and sweets, all left our tastebuds tickled

    She deftly governed our sizeable home and hearth for many years
    Amma (Dadiji) brings me joy
    whenever in my fond childhood memories she appears.

    ©ira_neer October 8, 2021

  • jikimi 1w

    #grandma #wod @miraquill @writersnetwork

    Challenge accepted ♡♡

    Dadi is the best friend of every child....��

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    Grandma's wooden palace
    ~(but the best one I've ever seen)


    Grandma's appearance, my model:–

    There were loopholes in her words
    But I'll promise there isn't a single
    Mistake in her clothing. The best way
    She stays. Like an angel. Her little
    Bonnet on top of her grey-ish hair.
    The snow white apron she made
    Compulsory. Her little fluffy socks
    (Oh, she never accepts pink, says it
    Makes her shy, ishh) and her twinkling
    Blue eyes whenever she sees her
    Grand-daughter running towards her
    Shouting 'nani' 'nani I've got dirt on
    My skirt'. She never stays free, says
    It makes her dull, likes being dissolved
    In work. 'Wit beyond measure is man's
    Greatest treasure' was her favourite
    Phrase. And lastly her charming smile
    Chuckling at the doorway because
    Her grand daughters didn't understand
    Her joke.

    Grandma's food–

    Her food never mistakes. Even
    The food knows when grandma's
    Cooking. The wafting smell drifts
    Down the lane in the village towards
    The cows grazing the field, through
    The fisheries and finally to the hungry
    Folks gliding like ghosts towards
    Granny. The chief cook was grandma.
    For every ceremonies she cooked
    Delicious dishes along with my favourite
    Sweet dish. Her homemade "santre ka
    Juice" was her signature drink. Granny
    Served the folks working tirelessly in
    The farms in broad sunlight with her
    Mouth watering drink in large bronze
    Goblets. On happy family occasions
    When everyone insist on buying sweets
    Granny always retorts. She fills everyone's
    Mouths with her super sweet "kheer"
    Then permits for sweets. For dadi
    Everything should be tasty and sweet
    But with the taste of home.

    Grandma's kitchen:–

    "Mitti" pots full of spices and
    Shelves full of bronze objects.
    Columns and columns of spices
    And sweet. One corner of it filled
    With a large cauldron bubbling hot
    Stew with some pepper serving at the
    Top. Granny always likes to cook
    Food in the backyard in the fire.
    But her kitchen is so systematic
    And clean like a pure white paper.
    Pots of home prepared mints and
    Jugs of water neatly stacked around
    A corner. Utensils are placed around
    A vast table and glasses and dishes
    Are stacked according to size. She
    Never gives anyone to clean it for her
    Says no one does as perfectly as she
    And then laughs. Her wooden kitchen
    With mitti pots is like a castle and its
    The best I've ever seen. With dadi as
    The princess wearing her bonnet as
    Crown.

    ©jikimi

  • _spitfire_ 1w

    #grandma #wod #pod
    @writersnetwork @miraquill

    Grandma is an emotion. She's love, and will always be in my memories. Her blessings are protecting me wherever I go I know❤. PS: I miss her a lot.

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    Grandma

    That was as usual a mundane Sunday afternoon,
    Chit chat with tight cwtch was a sine qua non,
    Things get faded with time,
    But some memories vanquish only during bedtime!

    We used to blether on the kitchen,
    Her wrinkled face and milky eyes shows her tiredness,
    Yet they are the most adorable I have witnessed ever,
    Her hairs were gunmetal grey and long,
    Yet she looks cute with that bun,
    Her movements were drowsy, somewhat like a restless and tired person,
    I gotta chair from behind and let her sit there,
    Hours passed and our non stop exchanging of chitchat continued,
    Sometimes her voice was feebly pronounced,
    Yet they were actively gleaming,
    The spirit in her kept me rejuvenating,

    Every Sunday I love to help her making my favorite snack,
    She knows that's my favorite pan cake,
    And when she bakes it with a one millionaire smile, it makes my heart melt,
    I could perceive outside the window pane behind,
    The eastern hills would align as plains of delphinium,
    And the sun was all set to skedaddle,
    The view was more than nostalgic with my grandma,
    Holding her body, her warmth, could be felt with serenity,
    Framing memories, and enjoying my dearest pan cake,
    With non stop cluttered words and cliches.

    Today those Sunday afternoons feel like mournings,
    With portraits of broken feeling and polaroids of framed memoirs,
    The pancake has become unappetizing,
    Stories and fairy tales ain't genial,
    Patchy nights, wandering for the shaft of starlight,
    Those sunsets ain't lively anymore,
    Caught between a fragile mind and brawny heart,
    Nothing feels like beautiful in her absence,
    "How does the time vamoose so rapidly", is the only question my mind asks;
    Those sunsets and sundays ain't worthy anymore!

    ©_spitfire_

  • himabindu11 1w

    Grandma's Dish

    I can smell your love and affection from the kitchen when you fry the rice in ghee.
    I can taste the flavour of your sweetness towards me, when you add jaggery in it.
    I can sense the way you care for me when you serve.
    I feel protected when you add some smoky coal to get rid of an evil eye on dishes.
    The sweet dish formed a bond between us.
    ©himabindu11