Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Free Verse Son Poems | Free Verse Poems About Son

These Free Verse Son poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Son. These are the best examples of Free Verse Son poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

O' Middle Child

O' middle child, dear son of mine, you have always let the others shine
All through the years, you have stood behind
---I want to say, I've noticed you  

Your sister's charms, of course, we knew...
And your brother's skills were multitude
But, my quiet child, though your words were few
---I want to say I've noticed you

While people cheered, and guitars were played,
 as your siblings sang upon the stage
You cheered them on with no restraint
---but, I want to say I've noticed you

Such wit and charm, a heart of gold, 
More generous soul, I've never known
A shoulder you will always lend
---a brother, friend until the end

I love you all, .....of course I do
I have watched you grow, each one of you
My quiet child, you are still the same
---you'll step aside from all acclaim

As parents now, all three of you
I am proud beyond the words I hold

My middle child, I hope you know, 
while you've always been a one to sow
a quiet gift to all you've known

---I want to say I've noticed you........



Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Preacher's Son

I am the Preacher's son
who stole the bread
and broke it with a wrinkled face,
the essence weaving behind her retinas.

When I stole from the church,
Mrs. Worther 'the bird', had spied me
sneaking out the vestibule door,
from her usual early service perch
in the very back pew.

She carried this secret for many years,
including when she caught me eavesdropping
on midweek board meetings
from behind crates of cheap wine.
Instead of showing scorn,
she had given me a warm wink,
offering a lesson
by leaving me there to think.

Mrs. Worther
who had been my Sunday school teacher,
had made me study the lessons
without ever becoming a preacher --
especially later,
when it came to my thievery
and excursions into the park,

where I broke the bread
with a wrinkled face,
the essence shimmering behind her retinas.

I am the Preacher's son,
who instead found the presence
amongst ducks and swans,
when I broke the bread
with that crazy old lady -
gleaned what I needed to do,
and since then,
have never again
sat in another pious pew.

So now,
I am the 'bad' Preacher's son.
Some people whisper righteously
how I have come undone,
made a pact with the dark,

while I break the bread
with that age-old essence in the park.

Inception Re-mix
March 24th, 2014
(originally written: March 24th, 2010)


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

Out of the Park

It wasn't because he brought her flowers....
 It wasn't because he wined and dined her....
   She loved him because he spent hours on the computer
       trying to track down the 1970 Brooks Robinson baseball card
                                                                   for their oldest son's birthday
She loved him because he played with their kids, even after a hard day at work...
     baseball games in the big front yard...
            cheering them on...
                not getting angry when the youngest son 
                           knocked a homer 
                               straight through the living room window

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Sometimes I am happy, sometimes I am sad.
Sometime I sing, sometimes I stammer

Sometimes I dance on the music of my soul, Sometimes I dance on the fingers of 
one single person
Sometimes I expect so much from others; sometime I myself can’t meet my own 

Sometime I make fun of others and feel bad later, sometimes life makes fun of me 
and I smile
Sometime I win and sometimes I lose, sometimes I don’t even understand whether I 
won or lost.
Sometimes I laugh as if whole world is with me,
Sometimes I cry as if I am alone wandering in a strange land

Sometimes I give up so easily
Sometimes I work so hard that no one can stop me to achieve what I want

Sometimes I am dynamic person, who wants to change the world,
And sometimes I am a kid who expects anyone to embrace him tightly.

Sometimes I feel happy about the achievement of my enemy
Sometime I feel dejected with my own success.

Sometimes I help others and show them the right path
Sometimes I feel totally helpless and don’t know where to go

Sometimes I ask god to please give my past back
Sometimes I pray to show me the way forward

Life is composed of SOMETIMES and I just flow with that.
U admit or not but you are also sailing on the same boat.
So join me and enjoy it EVERYTIME as SOMETIMES life is very short!

Copyright © Rajat Singhal

Details | Free verse | |

A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior

A Tribute to Jayson, My Brave Warrior
My dear son, Jayson When you called late last night to let me know You were deploying to go overseas tomorrow In spite of my great resolve I broke down and sobbed.
The little boy I lovingly nurtured So witty and good-natured So kind, compassionate, and loving You’ll always be my sweet boy Even though the world now sees you as a grown man.
Recalling special times when I showered your baby face with kisses Or tickled your armpits Howling with laughter, you would beg me “Do it again, Mommy, I love it!”
I remember all those moments we had At times rocky, sometimes sad But most of all memorable and enjoyable. I remember your growing pains All your questions, anxieties, and mixed-up emotions Yes, we made it through hurdles you and I Making me laugh, making me cry But taking that journey together was quite priceless!
You’re now a strong, valiant, young man Willingly putting your life on the line Many have thanked you for your service And, my brave warrior, I am so proud of you When I hear your humble, heartfelt reply, “Glad to do it!”
You’re just simply the best! While you took a minute to leave the nest I’m grateful for the extra time we were given But I know It’s time to let you go – Go take your rightful place in the world.
You’ve grown wings like a fierce eagle It’s your time to fly high! Now soar! But remember that you are always a part of me And even though we may no longer hold hands We are still holding hearts.
These tear-splattered pages Reflect my anguished heart Knowing you’re prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for your country I pray that you will return to me safe and sound I love you, my hero - my precious son. Godspeed! ¡Vaya con Dios!

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez

Details | Free verse | |

God's little poet

He poked his head
betwix mine write
for the likes of I
to address his query;

"Do I blend in
do my words

The tears 

Copyright © James Peranteau

Details | Free verse | |


The rose colour of your mouth stirs something primordial inside of me – I smile along with you. Plump little hands reach for my face. I hold still while you explore my heart with a feathery touch.
When you are asleep, I look over the papers of your college fund. We could make it if we would forsake frivolities. It will be no hardship for me to do so. I smile contentedly. The boxer puppy lying at my feet; quite content– its stomach pink and extended: he ate too greedily (as usual). You will grow up together and share our unconditional love. The cricket bat, signed by the national team, takes pride of place in its brackets on your bedroom wall – a pale dove blue (matching the colour of your eyes). A gift from your dad – sure that you would follow in his footsteps. A rainbow of possibilities prostrate at your feet.
I check every now and again whether you are breathing. Sleeping soundly, neither a frown upon your smooth face, nor a care in the world. Your long, black eyelashes quiver slightly, as though following a dream – a dream we all shared: a dream of boundless expectations …
************** Exhuming long forgotten memories; mingling with my fevered tears – echoing my breaking heart. They lead you away. Assaulting the arresting officer had sealed your fate.
Mildewed expectations best laid to rest together with the memories of you.
The sky has lost its colour, as I step outside the courtroom. Inspired by: Closer By Chris Aechtner “If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations” 3 July 2013 Sponsor Debbie Guzzi Contest Name Referential

Copyright © Suzette Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Noah counting love

I woke this morning
yes, this morning
and felt the warmth of love
‘pon mine forehead
and my face
and my ears 
and my nose

I woke this morning
yes, this morning
and heard the warmth of love
close to mine forehead
and my face
and my ears
and my nose

I woke this morning
yes, this morning
and heard his words of love;
“Don’t worry Pops,
I washed my fingers before
I counted the wrinkles on your,
your face 
your ears
and your nose

Copyright © James Peranteau

Details | Free verse | |

Dear son

Too big for his britches, too small for his cap
Just the right size for mama's lap
He keeps me in stitches, the things he will say
"Oh let him stay little", I repeatedly pray
A little firecracker with spunk to spare
He walks in the house and strips down bare
Not a single piece of clothing, not even a sock
Demands to be naked, stubborn as a rock 
Bath time is the best if you'r ready for some fun
Not a dry spot on the wall by the time he is done
There is something about that boy that tugs at my heart
An emptiness inside, when we are apart 
His little blonde curls and sweet little face
A perfect little person, thanks to God's glory and grace
I love that he needs me and doesn't want me to leave
Lord knows I need him too, more than I need to breathe

Copyright © Anna Hopper

Details | Free verse | |

A mothers unfinished painting

A mother gazes at a painting from decades ago a bitter sweet reminder of beautiful memories Remembering her child splashing in the water but so distant in his own world - lost at sea Maybe those were the signs - that they failed to see Recalling the day he walked away to chase his dream leaving with so much acrimony - words piercing the heart Was it something she did? Was it something she said? Did he get too much attention or did he feel neglected? Her heart is crying for you - do you feel her tears? Her tongue is calling your name - do you hear her? Your mother is in pain - come and heal her Your mother is suffocating - breathe oxygen into her Your mother prepared a painting, but the image is blank she can picture your brown eyes and your smile - but it's unclear How your mother longs to see your face - to hear your voice Age is catching up on her - don't leave it too late Since your departure it feels like she has painted only in achromatic so forlorn - missing you like a brush without its palette when a painter has lost her heart - how can she paint a pretty picture? The Silent One 10 November 2015 Oil Paintings 1-2-3 any Poem form - Poetry Contest by Eve Roper Painting one

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Free verse | |

A Lover's entrée to March

How far can you fall and get back up 
How high can you jump
And keep your feet in the sand 

To touch grace and fall from within
Next to you I was out of my skin
I missed you yesterday and you leave tomorrow

A life spent in the shadows of lushly tint 
Smoke your waves 
Exhale the freshness of your menthol scent 
Home is what you call shelters that need no defense 

I’ll send 
You’ll say goodbye
I’ll send again
You won’t reply

If love 
Is the appreciation of another’s existence
Then goodbye
Is the anticipation of seeing you again

You and I, we’ll cruise the shores
Together we’ll settle with the wind 
The joy of a small hut, a lovers den

You’ll send
I’ll wonder why
You’ll send again
I will not reply 

"our songs for sale"

Copyright © Jerry Golden

Details | Free verse | |

Letting Go

       Letting Go  								
Mama I love you
While I open the door for him while he carries a laundry basket full of cloths
“Thank you mama, 
“I love you mama.”
While he goes out to his car to go to work at a prison as a prison guard, I say,
“Be careful,”
“I love you”
While I watch him walk out I shed a tear,
As I watch him walk off, I think of wishing he was small again so I could hold him and protect him of what is waiting for him out there in this world. 
But then I think of what I have been taught, Let him grow up and leave him in the Lords hand not mine.
I think of moments like this is when I fall little of God’s faith, 
And remember, to please trust in God and his Word, 
For my faith in Him has always guided me in my life. 
By Eve 

Copyright © Eve Roper

Details | Free verse | |


I remember that night as if it were yesterday,
sitting and watching your chest moving rhythmically 
up and down as you took each breath.
Your face was that of tranquillity.
Your cheeks were scarlet from spending hours 
on the beach in the November wind. 
As your little eyelids began dancing in the moon lit room,
I couldn’t help but wish I was there in your dream.
The skylight allowed the moonbeams to shine down on you
and you were that night; my star.
I rushed to get my video camera to capture this rare moment.
Then sat there filming you, not wanting this serene moment to end.
Soon my son, you shall graduate from university.
So much has been lost since then, and the video?
Yet still when I close my eyes, I can see you there,
that warm feeling wells up once again in my breast, 
and that night has become one of the most 
treasured moments of my life.
It has been branded in my heart and soul forever.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: A poem you have not entered in a contest #12
Poet Destroyer A

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

Details | Free verse | |

Love from our son....(his poetry)

note: this lovely poem was presented to my husband and I on the day of our anniversary, 
this past November (Thanksgiving weekend). 
hope you won't mind if I share...written by my son Scott   (we are blessed)


It said, as I sat by firelight reading
In the eve of a long, full day.

"He was not the son of a king
She was not the daughter of royalty
But when they were in each other's arms,
He was a prince, she a princess.

It was a small cottage,
Not a castle, no towers, no servants
But there were two who
Adorned the walls, planted the garden
Warmed the rooms,
Created a home.

Some days the storms would blow,
And beat upon the home
That was not fortified with stone.
But as the two held on to each other
The walls held fast,
And indeed grew stronger with every storm.
And together they saw many rainbows.

Along their path, children were born
Three, young and strong
Who played games of their own making
And grew
Not by nanny or boarding school master
But by the love that filled their home.

I did not read of captains of battle
Or regents,
Or a princess in the forest
Waiting for a magical kiss.
But I read of heroes,
And sacrifice,
And courage,
And love.

And they lived happily ever after".....

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

The Door To Forever

Oh the choices, the choices we make
Oh the choice, the choice I made
A choice which on that night
I did not know was a choice
I know now...

We exchanged words
Harsh words over nothing, nothing at all
Childish words over petty differences
Angry words which are critical
so critical now to recall and to relive
over and over again…

You were ready to drop the matter
You were ready to relent and apologize
I was not ready to drop the matter
I was not ready to relent and apologize

You were the adult, I was the child
I reversed the roles, you reversed them back
You wanted to relent. I refused to relent
I refused and let you walk out that door

Yes, I let you walk out that door
That front door, the door to forever

the last time I didn't talk to you
the last time I didn't say I love you
the last time I saw you
the last time I saw you alive…

Submitted for: ‘The Choices We Make in Life’ contest sponsored by Edward Ebbs

Copyright © Tim Ryerson

Details | Free verse | |

Walk With Me

Walk With Me

       I said, "Look at the mess I've made."
He said, "Take my hand and don't be afraid."
       I said, "But I feel so ashamed."
He said,  "I love you son and you're the reason I came."

       I said, "What about those dark days ahead?"
He said, "My love will be nourishment and keep you well fed."
       I said, "I'm not brave tell me what to do."
He said, "Believe in me and I'll carry you through."

       I said, "Okay Father, teach me to be a man."
He said, "I love you my son now take my hand."
       I said, "My soul is Yours for eternity."
He said, "I'm proud of you my son, now walk with me."

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson

Details | Free verse | |

i am scared

 I am Scared this may be the end…
 I try not to think too much—that is not easy-
 To concentrate on anything else—is just hard.
 My mind wonders and panic sets in,
 When I hear the news or the phone rings.
 Anxiety rushes like fear in my veins.
 I am frightened—I have no control.
 I am afraid—this may be the end.
 A visit behind bars or a funeral.
 Death or arrest--it is only a matter of time.
 I cannot sit still—I have to try—but hope is gone.
 After a year my son skipped out in the night.
 The urge was so strong he gave up the fight.
 My son is an addict—
 I am his mother and I cry every night.        MamaO—7/15                                           

Copyright © fonda anne

Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |

A mother's treasures

A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother 
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her 
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this alletrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevaient from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths, roles and qualities
of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job 
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty

Details | Free verse | |

ABC Love Poem

                            ~My Trip With Love~

A arrival from Montreal to San Francisco seeing my son and his children.
B beautiful red roses on my approach expressing their love towards me. 

C for caring to have an eye contact honoring my motherly devotion & fidelity.
D for dreams come true when i sleep at night in my own studio. 

E for enjoy having our breakfast first day while exchanging our life time stories.
F for faithfulness towards one another was so important since his childhood.

G good friends who invites me to their homes to meet their families.
H for happiness when I run to the restaurant help greett his customers at work.

I interfering with my sons life is a long forgotten issue, a perpetual respect . 
J for jokes we exchange together through evenings laughing endlessly.

K kissing me good night when the night is over for me to retire.
L for love that I get from both of them when I cook an oriental dish.

M morning ride on a tour with family & soft music while driving.
N for never do I complain about any subject when shared together. 

O older, but I don't let them feel my arthritis pains when I am visiting. 
P for pictures are taken as souvenirs from this fabulous journey once a year 

Q quite evenings when I leave my son and wife to have an intimate night.
R for roll up my sleeves to clean their home to amaze them out of love.

S surprise when home from work to a house clean & table set for dinner. 
T transport for me is the subway my independence not to bother him.

U unique love between a son and mother, he is my rock. Best friends.
V variable outings touring the city while discussing his children's future.

W wanting those happy days to last forever. But will return next year. 
X xylophone for enjoying the music of our last dinner together.

Y yearning from my depth to have wanted my stay to last longer.
Z zone when we said farewell at the end of the visitors area. Tears of joy.
Visiting my sons once a year is my dream come true forever. The love for my children has always been, "The Endless Love Of A Child".

Therese Bacha
. 28/5/2013

 An ABC poem :For Alfred Vassello

Copyright © Therese Bacha

Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               

Copyright © Shanity Rain

Details | Free verse | |


"As a boy, I believed her to be indestructible....
....then there came a day when my Mother felt so light and frail. 
This moment helped me to become a man."

Admiring the frost blossoming 
in-between the antique window panes,
for just as snowflakes,
no two blossoms of frost are identical --

A fractalized, crystalline collage
of kaleidoscopic pyramids,
moving in and out of this frozen web 
which catches sunlight as prey,
instead of ghastly house flies.

The new shoots of an indoor spider plant
add a whole new level of nature's artistry
by casting shadows of spiders
into the ever-growing icy web.
The play of shadow and light,
invokes a plethora of memories,
including the time when only her eyes
could be seen through breaks in the frosted panes.
Those eyes.
Separated from the other features of her face,
they had taken on a whole new meaning altogether.

She wasn't as invincible as formerly believed,
wondering if life had something more to offer;
if she had the strength to make the right choices.
Exactly like a cold winter's day,
filled with so many depictions and details
of chilly death and crisp, brittle branches
swaying in the biting wind and frozen landscape -
all of the time knowing
how power and renewal lurks beneath the surface.
One simply needed the strength to wait it out.

And just as this frost growing 
in-between the window panes will melt,
Mother's struggles had also melted away
into a warmer pond filled with lotus flowers and koi,
relishing in the golden years,
possibly wondering if her son still remembered
the unguarded glance shared so many years before.

Her son had been on the outside looking in,
and now, for this frozen moment in time,
he is on the inside, looking out.

Chris D. Aechtner       All Rights Reserved

*An older post that has already been entered into a past contest.  

Constance's 'Mother' contest

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

In Noah trots

In my arms,
in the depths of mine heart

In the shadows,
in the bright

In the pastures,
in betwixt the trees

In his thoughts,
inside of mine

In Noah trots
into Pops life 

Copyright © James Peranteau

Details | Free verse | |

The Wooden Swing Set

Quiet and still now.
The swing occasionally catches the air.
The tire never moves. 
There’s no one there to care.
The jungle gym beside it is played with by squirrels.
The sand box below holds creatures quiet and shy.
Tiny plastic men are lost in the sand deep below.
A metal car is with them, once favorite of them all.
Leaves stir in the clubhouse, with spiders in its loft.
My son hadn’t played with it for a long, long while.
But I hadn’t noticed while he was here running in the house.
And now when I see the Wooden Swing Set…
It’s connects with my empty heart.

A touch of Empty Nest Syndrome brought this poem to me.

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Free verse | |

My Son, my One and Only

My son, my one and only
To you, I give my hand
You left us grieving for you
This dark and lonely night
Take my hand and lead me
Leave me not in despair
Let me join you this present hour
For my heart can not go on
A moment more without you
My love, my one and only.

Copyright © Giselle Sun

Details | Free verse | |



                                       As I follow the footsteps of my son
                                       My heart breaks at every word said
                                                     against Him

                                                     Why?  Why? 
                                         As my tears run down my face
                                  I vision,  tenderly cradling him in my arms
                                               when he was young

                                                       Why? Why?
                                          Does it have to be this way?
                              They only loved and worshiped Him yesterday 
                 What has happened in just a day to make everyone hate him so?

                                                     Why? Why?
                       As I take every step behind him watching him suffer so
            My legs want to fold underneath me of the pain in my heart for my son
                           For every blow he takes, for every time he falls

                                                      Why? Why?
                                      My eyes swell and my nose runs
                                from the suffering that my son is enduring
                and I am not allowed to get near him to comfort him in my arms

                                                       Why? Why?
                                            Please, let his suffering end
                  I can’t bear it any longer watching Him being nailed to the cross
                             I know it was meant to be, for our redemption 

                                                     Why? Why?
© Eve Roper 3/21/2015

Copyright © Eve Roper

Details | Free verse | |

Thank you mother

I must confess!!
my mother was not there
when i needed milk from somebody's breast

Probably she was feeling stress -
daddy used to beat her down
living marks from the face to the chest

Eventually mom left,
living behind two sons;
i must believe she thought it was best

To do not worry about the rest -
she kept on going forward
and buildup a new nest

I'm not writing this for you to criticize
but rather
for you to analyze   

That i had realize!!
You couldn't ever gone back
to get hurt and be utilize

So you came to the deep south
with only one purpose;
not ever going back to the devil's mouth
If i was you i would have done the same,
but again, what about my sons
you know what, don't take the blame

Mother is alright!!
I am very thankful
for i am very bright

Thank you again for giving birth 
two beautiful sons;
worth introducing to the planet Earth

Copyright © Diogenes Zuniga

Details | Free verse | |

You're Easy to be Proud of

You have grown to be such a man
yet, I cannot help but see the boy in you
you are my Son, who wears many uniforms
as your father, I cannot help but be Proud,

I see you march in the Orange and Black
your new horn, the one you have polished to a glow
every step you take, Orchestrated to perfection
with every note played, My pride, Crescendo 

Then, you have worked hard, and Matured
a letter arrives, Office of the Governor, the Man himself
an invitation, Ambassadorship, a Musical one
Travel Europe, Summer next, Seven Countries

A Father, busting with pride, Why? I'll tell you!

        Because, " Your Easy to be Proud of"

Yet as proud as I am, there is this other Uniform
the one you wear with Honor, Duty, Love of Country
the one with Medals, Braids and Epaulets 
the one with a special pin, a hometown pin

Five Stars Golden, enveloped by Black and Orange
Tenne' a Chevron, a Chief, a Ring of Life
of the First Argent, A Scroll in Black
an inscription, " Classis Adhaereo Adstringo"

A Motto, In Latin, ascribed by the Navy
for Five hometown boys Lost in War
of how they lived and died " We Stick Together"
Albert,Francis,George,Joseph and Madison Sullivan

In that Uniform, I see the Man, not the boy
I cannot help but be caught, in solemn thought
This Man, with Anapolis in sight and mind
on this, the Eve of the 9/11 tragedy and War

That solemn thought reverts to Sacrifice
the Sullivan's sacrificed,9/11 over 3000 sacrificed
all did so,willingly or not, for Country, for God
I think you have foreseen Your Destiny, Your own

Josh, whatever Uniform you decide to wear,
whatever path, you may choose to walk
I'll always Love you, Be there for and with you
and be So Very Proud of You, Why? Because!

             You're Easy to be Proud of! 

             With all my Love.....Dad

Copyright 2011 Richard Pickett

Copyright © Richard Pickett

Details | Free verse | |

Ode to the Lineman

Pulled himself to the very top 
Looked over the world on high 
Felt the warm and stirring breeze 
falling from the sky 
Knowing this was how it felt 
to soar above the land 
To feel so safe away from things 
so free to be alive 
Yet down the pole we all must come 
to touch the very ground 
This is where we laugh and play
gives us what we need 
The loving smile of a young girl's face 
a women's tender care 
For up above the pole to fly 
is nothing but the air 
But on the soil we grow and live 
to reach out, to touch, to give 
So keep your feet upon the ground 
take a good long look around 
and see if flying above the pole 
isn't like living in a hole 
from where you never see  
the reaching hands pulling you down 
pulling you down to be

Copyright © Elinore Carney

Details | Free verse | |

On The Beach At Dusk

On the beach at dusk,
you say that someone has
thrown sand into the sky,
and please won't I sweep
it away so you can play
awhile longer with your
sand castles and little plastic boats.
You are confident 
I can do anything,
and, Son, I've always tried.
But even I cannot 
hold back the night.
Darkness closes in around us,
and for the first time 
you look up at me,
and see that I'm not God!
For your best free verse poem 
SKAT A/ Contest

Copyright © Darlene Gifford