Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer

Daughter Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Daughter

These Daughter Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Daughter. These are the best examples of Daughter Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

12345
Details | Ballad |

HARD HAT HEROES

There's a breed of Aussie hero who has served this nation well 
and they don a yellow uniform to face the fires of hell. 
When day temperatures are soaring and the high winds blow a gust, 
and our bushland is ignited it's in them we place our trust.   
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
When their mates are in the hot seat and they need a helping hand, 
they will volunteer their services from stations 'cross this land. 
Whether country towns or cities or a bush fire brigade; 
they will gladly throw their hats in and will offer their mates aide. 
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
Do you owe your home or property, your very lives perhaps,     
to the selfless, sincere efforts of these bold fire-fighting chaps?  
Or still sadly you lost everything, but proudly can attest 
to their fierce determination as each brave soul did their best.    
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 
 
So I ask you all to join me as we stand and raise a glass 
to the courage and the spirit of this fire fighting, class; 
and I'm sure you'd love to join me as this message we impart,  
"You're such true blue hard hat heroes and we thank you from the heart." 
Yes, you're all somebody's daughter and you're all somebody's son; 
you are mothers and you’re fathers.  Hard hat heroes everyone. 


Details | Ballad |

Life

Life is a many things
Sometimes life is a dark tunnel,
But every tunnel has a light at the end
I will be your lantern to guide the way
Cling to me and I will keep you from the darkness
Life is a giant battle.
I will be your shield and spear 
Your spear to pierce through the horrible people
Who want to harm you, 
Your shield to protect you
From the battles you cannot win your self 
life is many things my dear 
But I am here,
For you to use, to cherish, and love.
Life is many things my dear. 
But you are not alone.
I am here. 


Details | Ballade |

Fifteen tiny Swallows

Fifteen tiny swallows

Fifteen tiny swallows
All perched upon a fence
Oh what handsome fellows
But here, let me commence
To speak of all their beauty
These tiny little birds
All black and cream with a reddish throat
Oh how my heart they stirred

A lady walking with her dog
Disturbed these little guys
So from the fence these birds take wing
And head towards the skies
It seems that they are dancing
In the way they fly around
 They always seem to fly in circles 
And nearly touch the ground.

I walk around these wetlands
And wonder at it all
Everyday it’s something else
And it’s all so beautiful
Ducks and swallows, parrots too
And the beauty of the lake
I love to walk there most of all
At the coming of the daybreak.

16 August 2013 @ 1510hrs.




Details | Ballad |

LONGING FOR FATHER'S LOVE

I am not a father...
Nor I am a mother...
I am just a daughter...
That is growing better...

Father, you have been away...
I truly wish you have stayed...
Hugging me as I lay...
I don't need much penny...

All i have been missing is you my daddy..
Your love and your real company...

Look, how i am now...
I pursued my little vow...
Hoping always, You"ll be proud...
It's alright if you'll not be loud...

All i want is for us to bond..

Yes, I am not a kid nor a child..
ever anymore...
But still, there is that longing...
I can not deny...

I miss you much, daddy...

BY 
olive_eloi
contest: POEM FOR DADDY
SPONSOR: LEONORA GALINTA
2ND PLACE - TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY...
NOTE: I REALLY MISS A FATHER'S LOVE..


Details | Ballad |

Cry the Beloved Country

There was a brave,
A sage of his age,
And there was rhythm.
Men United in the hunt,
Women united in the spiritual sounds of songs of the Shaman,
And ships from the east,
Came with the Glory of God,
And between gunsmoke and gangrene,
Destroyed scenes of queens and kings,
And reaped heaps of unfulfilled dreams,
Busting at seems of disaster,
Cry the Beloved Country,
My master, is it truly that my father Ham,
Saw Noah Naked,
Cause my great, great, great, grandfather fought off dreams of death to endure.
And ensure that I would spend my life in this struggle.
There was a brave,
A sage of his age,
And there was rhythm,
And ships came to the horn of riches adorned,
And raped a land of many a man,
And built liberty on the shackles of freedom,
Cry the beloved country,
There was a brave,
A sage of his age,
And there was rhythm,
And ships came to the horn of riches adorned,
And raped a land of many a man,
And built liberty on the shackles of freedom,
Cry the Beloved Country,
But there was rhythm,
Among mothers’, mothers’ , sisters and brothers,
There was rhythm I tell you, 
And they prayed for my daughter to know a better day,
Every day in this struggle, I pray for my daughter to know a better day,
Where her soul is free, and she can be a light unto the nations,
Perspiration surrounds me, on this gethsemene mountain,
Where day after day, I watch my manhood muffled by the sound of bitterness,
Cry the Beloved Country,
But I tell you, there is Rhythm,
And so I say cry, my beloved country,
For the day of judgment is upon us,
And renaissance awaits,
I don’t care what mountain tries to destroy my sight,
My daughter will know a better day,
White supremacy, mental illness, multiple sclerosis,
Myopic minions of monstrous greed driven savages,
Ravaging urban centers and fatherless widows,
Like Caleb, spoke to the sun, I will not run,
God gave me this mountain,
And my daughter will know a better day,
Cry my beloved country,
Cry not tears of sorrow,
Cry not tears of lament, 
But cry the sound of triumph,
For we will not stop,
Until every thought has become captive to the sound of liberation,
 And all nations, bow to righteous sensations,
Celebrations’ elations, and dancing to the rhythm of the Savanna,
And I will not stop,
We will not stop, 
We must not stop,
There are braves,
Sages of this age,
And there is rhythm.
Amen.


Details | Ballade |

Laid to Rest

Today I saw a daughter laid to rest.
A mother tries to heed her own advice.
Holding it in surely put her to the test.
She failed more than once or twice.
Her failing was no artificial device.
She tried, Lord how hard she tried.
She simply could not pay the price.
She cried, oh how the mother cried.

She was a fifth grade teacher, the best.
The kids all sought her out for advice.
Fifty Eight, so young but so blessed,
too young, to pay this enormous price,
too old to fashion protective gneiss. 
Her mother knew of this fierce pride.
Yet, she couldn’t save her baby’s life.
She cried, oh how the mother cried.

The building now full, still they pressed,
her former students, learning pain of life.
From one loved, who had faced the test,
and had not complained about sacrifice.
While a mother mortally wounded twice
who faced this when her husband died
hopes to God she will not see this thrice.
She cried, oh how the mother cried

The mother, paying the mother’s price, 
before her eyes could have fully dried.            
With more than enough love to suffice,   
she cried, and oh how the mother cried. 

For Catie's ballade contest
Feb 22, 2011      


Details | Ballad |

Devoted Daughter of the Moon

    Always asking question 
The devoted daughter of the moon 
     revels in starlight 
  Sweet to the touch, the taste
She dances around an eternal campfire
    The night wears on 
    Still she dances!
She will dance this way until dawn 
when the bright rays of the sun 
    will send her looking for shelter
One million dawnsa and one million
    dreams later 
She'll awaken 
to cast her glow 
upon our epoch 
which is in sore need 
   of tinsel and starlight


Details | Ballade |

GOOD THINGS ARE DUE

First trimester and you're barely a dream,
But its rapture to know that you are there!
Appointments are made, is all as it seems? 
My moods swing, crest than fall, joy to despair,
Then I sit and pray in my rocking chair,
Sweet gift of life, I already love you,
But I've learned that complications aren't rare. . .
God cradles us, whispers good things are due.

Second trimester, I'm told my eyes gleam,
Finally, we feel we're able to share
The wonderful news to our stunned home team,
Those infertile years were so hard to bear.
They ask if I want pink or blue? Who cares!
I buy yellow things as my waist accrues.
If worry prods, when I wake from nightmares,
God cradles us, whispers good things are due.

Third trimester, this barge is bursting beams,
How you turn and you twist, you have such flair!
Right around midnight, I feed us ice cream,
In the nursery waits your teddy bear,
I packed both our bags; I think we're prepared,
Will I raise you to be kind, wise and true?
When questions like these run rampant and blare,
God cradles us, whispers good things are due.

At last I hold you and kiss your soft hair,
Sweet girl, here's the first lesson for you:
When days are bad and your patience wears,
God cradles us, whispers good things are due.



*For Paula Swanson's How Due You Dew Contest


Details | Ballade |

MY MAY MASTERPIECE

These lingering days before you arrive,
I can barely move and my mind wanders,
But, love, I have never felt more alive,
While your layette I tenderly ponder,
Rubbing my belly, my heart grows fonder
of this body and its tremendous sway 
as you roll within, changing my contours,
You’ll see the world, soon, my newborn of May.

Birds mass on my wet lawn, a robin dives,
Last night it rained, the sky is still somber,
From this window, I watch as spring revives
a tired landscape with tints of splendor,
Lilac blooms soften remnants of thunder. 
Sunlight meets the pane, sweetening the day,
Muffin, this morn I will not squander,
You’ll see the world, soon, my newborn of May.

An idea hatches, your mother connives,
The stairs are steep, a mountain to conquer,
But the climb is worth what it will derive
A keepsake of myself so much rounder, 
A keepsake for you, my many pounder,
My true masterpiece, as bold as a Monet,
Hides below my canvas, sleeps hereunder,  
You’ll see the world, soon, my newborn of May.

I proudly paint my belly, fear not one blunder,
Before you breath air, we already play,
The words ‘See You Soon’ fill me with wonder,
You’ll see the world, soon, my newborn of May


*By Cyndi MacMillan



*I had gestational diabetes which left me exhausted and I knew that my labour was too be induced. If I had gone to term, Verity would have weighed... 12 POUNDS at birth. As it is, she weighed 10. The final month of my pregnancy, May, was a rollercoaster ride of emotions. I treasure the memories.


Details | Ballad |

My Easter Wish

Its Easter time for family and friends,
Joy and laughter goes on to no end.
The big Easter hunt will soon be here,
Kids are all happy to know that its near.

Its a special time in most parents life,
To have their kids around them,its an awesome sight.
They will search the house up side down,
To find the most Easter eggs, and wear the crown.

I found the most ,one kid will say,
So i wear the crown ,through out this day.
Not all Easters turn out like we plan,
For one kid is lost,like a grain of sand.

As parents we try and deal with this lost,
Of one kid not here,and the trials it has cost.
We pray that God will look after her, in her struggle to see,
How things went wrong , between her and me.

If i could turn back time ,and right the wrong,
Make things better,grow love that strong.
Pay more attention to their wants and needs,
Help them through trouble times, is where i should be.

Easter comes but once a year,
It should be the time of love and not of fear.
Trying to see things through her eyes,
Makes me feel sad, for i know she tries.











12345