SUMMER AT GRANDMA'S PLACE

A Poem by Inkspire

A heartwarming recollection of summers filled with love and laughter.

Do you remember?
When summers flew by in a heartbeat,
As you packed your bags for grandma’s place,
With your mother listing endless do’s and don’ts in the background
Waiting on the other side
Were your little, wide-eyed cousins,
And the elder ones,
Who always treated you like their baby.

Do you remember
When your baby cousin was your dress-up doll?
Ah, those days are gone
Now, she’s the one styling you.

There were days
When you clung to your elder cousin,
Chasing dreams through endless games of tag
But voices deepened, laughter softened,
And you discovered, almost too suddenly,
That they had lives beyond the summer haze.

Those innocent moments faded quietly,
Replaced by new memories,
After an awkward pause of growing up.

Dripping ripe mangoes, cool chilled lemonades,
Freshly made pickles, goods drying in the sun.
Ice creams, cucumbers, and juicy watermelons
All the flavors of summer fun.

Grandma proves she’s better than mom,
Every time she cooks your favorite dish
Sneaking bites before the meal is done.
And then there are the aunts,
Whose food somehow tastes better than mom’s
A fact you and your cousins always agree on.
It’s a universal truth
Every aunt outshines every mom in the kitchen.
Yet, in the end,
The question of who’s the better cook
Aunt or mom
Is one with no answer.

Do you remember those times
When you felt like someone special,
As your little cousins fought
To be your favorite?
Ah, those little hearts
All they ever needed
Was a bit of your attention.

Do you remember the battles for beds?
Silly quarrels about who sleeps where
Hands pulling you from both sides,
While your heart longed to sleep
With the cousin who wasn’t pulling you.
Whispers under blankets,
Stories that blurred truth and fantasy,
Awkward questions you couldn’t answer,
And scoldings to “sleep without murmuring,”
Which, of course, ended in giggles.

Those were the times
When you all complained to Grandma about your moms,
Each cousin with a list of grievances.
Until she betrayed you,
Siding with her daughter.

Then came the timeless stories
Of her early school days,
And how those strict elders now
Were once mischievous kids too.

It was always fun
Sneaking into the kitchen,
Opening the fridge,
And making snacks with your partners in crime.
The real fun?
Cleaning up the mess before the elders noticed,
And surprising them
With your “confectionery skills.”

Inspire and be inspired
When a cousin looks up to you,
You can’t break their trust.
One day, they’ll see the truths
But for now,
Let them hold on
To the perfect image of you they cherish.
Because soon,
They’ll be rebellious teens too.

Afternoons called for board games,
With elders and children gathered in a circle.
But when the elders napped,
It was time for our own games
Silly scary stories,
Ball games where you always lost,
Or a game of tag
Where you somehow became the enemy,
Chased away by little soldiers
Defending their kingdom.
There was always one cousin
Who wanted to be your partner,
And another
Who was determined to attack you
Why? You still don’t know.

No summer was complete without a fight
Two arguing, two supporting,
Two watching from the sidelines.
After an hour of shouting, door banging,
And silent treatments,
The same two joined hands
To annoy the rest!

Grandma’s house was the best
It’s true, grandparents spoil their grandkids.
No chores to help
Because the elders at home
Were just kids here.
They handled the errands,
While you only needed to
Eat, play, talk, and enjoy.

Maybe those summers were the best
Gone in a blink,
While we now endure
Endless months of scorching heat,
Cursing the sun.

© 2025 Inkspire

Author's Note

How do you spend your summer vacation?

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Featured Review

jacob erin-cilberto

This is so nostalgic for me. It reminds me of Vermont summers staying at the Gutterson's farmhouse.
Theresa was like a second Grandmother to me...great cook, tons of fun....she used to give us ice cream cones from her freezer which was just like one in an ice cream place.
I spent every summer in the fifties there. I only knew one of my actual grandmothers so this poem helped me to meet another one.
j.