These Family Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Family. These are the best examples of Family Quatrain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
There is a place where the land bows down to kiss the misty tide,
Where rolling waves bring memories of the place my heart resides.
There among the old fishing shacks that stretch along the shore,
I find the thing I’m longing for, in your sweet embrace once more.
We sit together on a weathered log I carve my initials on,
And as you mend the fishing net, I sing your favorite song,
“Oh Danny Boy”, falls on the wind and floats across the bay,
As you smile at me and melt my heart, with words you do not say.
Beneath a golden sun with the fish and the smell of wild flowers,
A little girl and her Grandpa, sit happily and while away the hours,
And when the sun dips in the bay, we put the mended nets away,
And hand-in-hand walk home again, to the end of a perfect day.
Author: Elaine George
(In loving memory of Theodore Evans - My Grandfather)
The magic came to Christmas Day when shepherds first were told,
When wise men brought their frankincense, their myrrh and gifts of gold,
When heaven opened wide its gates and angels came to sing;
For in a manger on the hay, lay Christ, the newborn king.
I found it first at Grandma's house, so many years ago,
When she prepared her Christmas treats and Grandpa seemed to glow.
The house was full of warmth and love, so sweet, so pure and real;
And what I cherish most of all, that Christmas magic feel.
It's in the music, on the air; just turn the dial to find
Inspiring songs that sing of peace, goodwill to all mankind.
They sing their praises unto God and spread their Christmas cheer,
And everywhere the songs are sung, they find an opened ear.
Its clamor, sparkle, warmth and hope, of which we try to write
In pretty lines of words and rhymes that never sound just right,
Can best be seen in children's eyes when they awake to see
What Santa Claus has brought and placed beneath the lighted tree.
The magic feel returns each year with warmth on coolish nights,
With memories steeped in seasons passed, in songs and blinking lights,
At Grandma's house, her Christmas treats, aromas rich and spiced;
To recognize the best in man, and honor Jesus Christ.
It is a family tradition
Passed from year to year
That we spend together
And celebrate with cheer
As the first snowflakes fall
We hear mama’s voice call
"It’s time for hot cocoa;
Come one and come all"
She asks nothing in return
Just quality time to share
Making each cup special
To show how much she cares
Now anxiously we wait
When leaves begin to fall
That cup of love to come
With winters first snowfall
Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend
My affirmation deceitfully severed
forever robbed by selfishness
Left to tackle life alone
Tumbling in the wake of my dad's mess
He left when I was three
The crevasse has increased for 33 years
Traded his life with us
For another woman and a couple of beers
He wasn't there to pick me up
When I fell off of my bike
To teach me how to fish
Or enjoy a nature hike
Now I'm a father to my son
Hoping not to make the same mistake
Living day to day on this lake of life
My son in tow through my own wake
It's been nine years and we're going strong
Six more years with my son
That's more with him than I had with mine
My son I guard in a web I've spun
A web of love, discipline, and nurture
Full of "I love you's" and "see ya in the morning"
A kiss before school and one before bed
Lots of playing, talking, reading, and singing
My son doesn't know the pain I feel
To not know my dad in intimate ways
No hands to comfort me or words to heal
No dad in sight for 12,045 days.............................(and counting)
My son and I have a great relationship and for this I am thankful......
Sometimes, I think about my life
And the prices I have paid
All the places I have been
The choices I have made
Seems somewhere along the path
I stumbled upon a stone
At that moment I realized
I’d forgotten my way home
My home became a prison cell
My memory was forgotten
My soul was like an egg
An egg that had gone rotten
Sorry I had to go away
You didn’t deserve my shame
I moved very far away
No connection to my name
My life has always been a lie
One I kept hidden from you
When you thought I was in college
Serving time up in the zoo
On the day I was released
You thought I graduated
The moment you were most proud
Another lie to be hated
I have learned it’s never to late
I believe those words are true
Grandma I’m on a mission
I will graduate for you
I really want to earn the pride
You gave me so long ago
I think it will bring some peace
Releasing guilt up in my soul
I’ve learned in the game of life
We must earn our pride
Even if the people are gone
Resting on the other side
I’ve learned in the game of life
Even though they may be hard
Choices aren’t like rolling dice
They're not like flipping cards
Choices define who we are
I know these words are true
Every choice I know make
Are bringing me back home to you
Grandma, I know where heaven is
It’s right here inside my heart
Inside of mine your memory
Until death will never part
During the time I have left
I vow to always let it show
All the seeds you sowed in me
I shall nourish as they grow
In the end I’ll sit with you
Just like when I was a boy
We’ll sing and praise Jesus’ name
With eternal everlasting joy
The warrior lays her weary head,
With heavy heart she cannot bear,
Burning tears stream down her face,
As whispered memories touch the ear.
Her armour tarnished by remorse,
Her battle-cry a wimpered row,
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude,
Will never know forgiveness now.
The song began two score ago,
When two came knocking at her door,
In need of refuge from the world,
Of that, and love, and little more.
Forced to fight for every smile,
Her only solace found in song,
She longed for love to rescue her,
And plant her where she could belong.
Jealous tongues are seldom kind,
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love,
The caged canary only sings,
When coaxed to praise from up above.
For the steely spine that now I own,
Forever shall I grateful be,
A gift from her, and from her own.
Courage mounted inwardly.
I'll not forget how I have loved thee,
And youthful memories I will prize,
Til on the shore of His forgiveness,
Whereto now, we both shall rise.
My father had been out of work for way too long.
At night, I often heard him and mom weep
Food was scant, but love was strong.
As was that hunger pain when I lay to sleep.
My little brother was too young to understand.
Still a babe in arms, he brought our only smiles.
I loved to play with him and hold his tiny hand.
It seemed to take away the hurt from life trials.
Then, one-day dad came home all excited.
He was talking so fast, grinning from ear to ear.
He said that our future was well fated.
That we were in for adventure was clear.
It was that new ocean liner, the Titanic.
Dad had been hired for the maiden voyage.
We were going along as his sidekick.
A family destined for American homage.
In just five days we boarded that ship.
Immigrating was a dream come true.
Accommodations would be a hardship.
But it was worth opportunities…new.
Dad worked as a scullion in the restaurant.
We were housed on the lower deck.
It was a very crowded lodgment.
We stayed together until the shipwreck.
Sirens were screeching people screaming.
We could not find dad anywhere.
Was he locked up as a cageling?
Could it be true; was he trapped down there?
Lifeboats were being lowered.
Mom held my brother, crying.
Dad must be somewhere cloistered.
We all feared a dreadful dying.
Someone put me in a lifeboat.
I reached for mom as it descended.
The Titanic was still afloat.
But my family separated.
The water was freezing.
I had forgotten my coat.
People crying, sniffling, and sneezing.
The lifeboat soon became an iceboat.
Within a few hours, death began.
Shivering, I crawled beneath two corpses.
A young girl destined to live without her clan.
Hidden from polar breezes.
That was the last time I saw my mother.
My mind holds the image clearly.
She, calling for dad, was cuddling brother.
Oh, how I loved my family dearly.
When rescuers finally arrived.
I was the only one alive in the lifeboat.
Beneath those bodies, I survived.
Then, I was wrapped in a warm coat.
I never did see America.
I was sent to an orphanage back home.
Life had dealt a great trauma.
Forever had sunken in the ocean's foam.
© April 9, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: My heart will go on and on.... Free Poetry
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
She looks up at big brother
She looks up at the sky
"You can't even reach the stars
So how in the world will I?"
He kneels down by his sister
And drops his voice down low
"Do you want to hear a secret?
But only you and I can know"
Her eyes and teeth show big and white
And she holds out her little pinky
"Tell me! Tell me! I wanna hear!
And I promise you can trust me!"
He chuckles and puts on a grin
And sets her on his knee
"Okay so first you have to know
That the stars spoke right to me
Before you were even born
Shooting stars fell down towards me
They told me something really special-
That anyone can touch them if they reach
They said it may be hard
But can happen if you try
They said you don't need to be tall
In order to touch the sky
They taught me how and said I'd show you
One day-- I guess that's today
So close your eyes and dream real big
Soon you'll be in outer space."
I don't like nasty limericks.
I don't like vulgar words.
I'd rather write of better things,
like maybe watching birds.
So many poets feel the need
to write such graphic things.
The art of poetry to me
is making words that sing.
It's easy to be nasty.
It takes no brain at all.
But I can't keep from wondering
where you get the gall.
My poems may not be 'genius'.
I'm sure they don't compare
to many other writer's work
but mine, I like to share.
No matter if you're ninety
or if you're only nine
you needn't feel ashamed to click
on poetry that's mine.
Sore to the bone
Running on a drop of energy
Just gotta push through
I'll rest eventually
My shoulder has gone numb
But my body feels her weight
As if she's gotten heavy
Since her unconscious state
If I could, I'd stop right now
But who knows how safe it is here
And if I could even start again
I may fall asleep I fear
Soon my body will give up
But I'll make it as far as I can
And hopefully haven isn't too far
And I can put her in helping hands
Walking all day and night
It's hard not to think on past
And any thought I come up with
Has me struggling to hold sobs back
I've kept my ears open
Trying to focus on only sounds
But all I keep on hearing
Is my shoes crunch on foreign grounds
Bang. I hear it softly.
So far but still so near.
Bang. Another gunshot sounds
And I've collapsed in fear.
I close my eyes but another goes off
This time in a memory
And now I'm filled with rage
At how repulsive humans can be
My thoughts turn to my baby
Slipping off of my shoulder
I set her down and examine her
Bloodstained gown and skin colder
My worst nightmare but it can't be true
I listen in for her sweet breath
No. No No. No No. No No.
What's this silence? This isn't death.
This time I don't close my eyes
I see a sight that makes me sob
Memory of the last I saw my wife
And now my baby's with her mom.
Each one of us left covered in crimson
By a monster, a gunshot, a blow
Their death is the death of me.
This is as far as I can go.
Inspired by Morris Gleitzman's novel "Once," a historical fiction about a boy in Poland
during the Holocaust.