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Best Family Poems

Below are the all-time best Family poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Family poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Family Poem |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar young child's tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


                                         ++++++++++++++++++


Details | Family Poem |

Hard Times

When hard times come they sit a spell, Like kin folk come to stay A-packin' troubles, pets an' kids That always get ‘n your way. It's drought an' flood, an' flood an' drought, There ain't much in-between. You work like hell to make ’em good, But still they’re sorta lean. The ranch went under late last year, The drought got mighty tough. The boss held-out a long, long time, But finally said, "enough!" So here I am dispatchin’ cops An’ watchin’ felons sleep, In Junction, at the county jail, A job I’ll prob’ly keep. The wife, she works at Leisure Lodge, Where older people stay, A-makin’ beds an’ moppin’ floors To earn some ‘extra’ pay. Though “extra pay‘s” the term I used, It goes to payin’ rent, An’ after all the bills are paid, We wonder where it went. We hocked my saddle, guns an' chaps, An' then our weddin' rings; Then when we couldn't pay the loan, They sold the 'dad-blamed' things. We felt real bad a day or two But then we let it go, Cause it got Christmas for the kids When money got real slow. When hard times come they sit a spell, Don't matter who you are; They'll cost ya things you've set aside, An' clean your cookie jar. You'll loose some sleep an' worry some, Won't pay to moan an' groan; But hang on to your happiness, They'll finally leave ya 'lone.


Details | Family Poem |

-Unlatched-

_______________________

So young, I was, and so naive There was no doubt, I did believe This babe who's latched inside my womb The ties we had would always be Latched on was he, as he was fed Then later days, our hands instead Not tall enough to open gates I would reach the latch for his escape In time he grew to need more space The cord we had, still had it's place The loving ties from birth, so long Were gently stretching.., moving on, Yet still remaining full and strong In time he grew, to be a man Our bond had changed, but still lives on He fell in love, as it should be He latched on with her, I'm glad to see It didn't mean our own was gone Songs are sung when lovers part But no song for a mother's heart When new adventures come one day And new roads take him far away The man he is, has been set free To be the man he wants to be The child he was is never gone She's letting go, yet holding on If once, one wish, were mine to choose So many would my thoughts pursue But one within my heart still yearns For just one day, the clocks would turn Together you and I would be Sitting there among the trees I would lift you up upon my knee Just like we did when you were three…
___________________________________________________________________ For Francine's Contest: Children In Rhyme


Details | Family Poem |

She read me Dr Seuss

6:35 A.M.

Sunrise against my neck
that no cheap tan booth could ever match.

I ring the doorbell in anticipation of joy’s injection.

I needed it.

Because I left my cell phone in the car,
as I didn’t want to hear any chimed email
or text annoyances.

And the car just got cleaned,
only for the birds to have their way
on its waxy shine.

Bastards!

Time to grab the flamethrower from my trunk!

But, before I could scream in Braveheart declaration,
there she was.

Her 6 yr old smile,
made of 1/4 inch gaps between innocence enamel,
captured me like no other could.

“Tio”, she preached in angelica sonata.

As she held me,
held me,
with puppy love warmth.

Even the rainbows fell to its knees.

She took off my jacket with ferret-like perkiness and
asked me to sit on the floor with her.

But, not before offering to toast me some Eggo waffles
with a big glass of Ovaltine…
…in her Little Mermaid glass,
proudly made in North Korea.

It even had the dictator’s initials and a bucktooth smiley face stamp, signed in glitter
that said:
“Kid-safe”.

Thank God I just took my online course in Child Safety.
I was ready!

As I sip on Little Mermaid’s curves,
shaped in plastic, swirly straw weirdness,
a sound blasts off from a Barbie radio.

My 2 yr old angel galloped into this heart of mine,
with Tinnitus piercing scream & laughter,
tackling me in Incredible Hulk lunge.

“Hi Tio”, she whispered, before she hopped back upstairs, 
Ninja Turtle-style,
laughing maniacally with rapid head tilts, left to right to left.

Boys will fear her. 
And I couldn’t be more proud.

After two moments of silence, 
my 6 yr old angel places her Dr. Seuss book on my lap,
as she sits in front of me.

“I can r-r-read
with my eye-s
shut.”

She carefully completed the sentence,
as my eyes instantly fill with leaky pride
and an ingrained smile.

10 minutes later, she shut her book and asked me how she did.
“I am so proud of you my angel.”
“You have come so far.”

I had to hold back tears because I didn’t want to throw her off.
Yet I think she knew,
because she kept her head down and smiled with gentle starburst.

Mission accomplished.

And it was then where I heard her say,
“Those who matter don’t mind,
those who mind don’t matter.”

But she was quiet, looking at me with tilted head & smile.

For it was my inner child, 
speaking
clear.

© Drake J. Eszes


Details | Family Poem |

High Bred Reality

     Soul progress
     back field in motion
The guff
     Chose, chose, live grow leave!  GO!

Leapt from heaven's gold
Jump started into a human mold

    White clapboard poverty with tiger lily blooms,
blueberry rake poverty woolen looms.

Riffs of Emerson, Whitman, Longfellow dawns,
mothers’ hazel eyes, father Davidesque form,
chosen to drive twixt a Jew and a screw.
          Magnet of lunacy...
Tumbled like an agate into the stream of life
part of the dream lesson
scream      lesson

Abuser of power, one who had once roared,
 Eve shaped now, weak and mewling
                 between the weeds of woe.
Care taken by lovers torn.
          Watched over by pedophile uncles.
Befriended by lewd Father of sons.
Adult child, searching amongst the Word
for the Word is God           and GOD …
       There are so many   words
    
Root ripped scenes from beauty to horror
Shiksa* taunts seep in with the smell of borsch. 
 A pumpkinseed amongst the pricks of Brooklyn
A wild rose planted in the asphalt soil 
     Doo-wop      ditty
Jew’s bop to a Dago harmony,
bagels, bialys and the French twisted strands 
of great grandma’s hair.
          Clipped, stripped of family shoved whole 
into yet another new mold.
      True believers,  ah yes,      fanatics all.
The struggle to survive whole healthy
dipped in, dripped in, a bath of acid and  thorazine. 
Polish priests pedal platitudes to the sisters of St. Joseph 
behind the gilded glory of the Church.

Raped by trust and betrayed by lovers,
a rose married to a prickles thorn,
so empathy is gained, and a healer born.
              Metal must be formed in a crucible of fire 
A healer can not be born without tasting the pyre.



Details | Family Poem |

Hear Oh L-rd

The Festival of Lights, Chanukah has arrived
a hopeful time of praise each year revived. 
The Menorah lit, each home becomes a church.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Our sister Miriam lights the shamash taper first 
a maiden fair and scholarly her prayers rehearsed
to bring together all that's beautiful, diverse.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

Eight nights we praise the L-rd for gifting us with Light
and pass around small things which bring delight. 
We rejoice. In brotherhood we are immersed.
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.

May G-d in his greatness light all your days
May family, friends, and foes mend their ways 
for all have needs, let kindness tame their thirsts
Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe.


*Bo-ruch A-toh Ado-noi E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ho-olom A-sher Ki-de-sho-nu Be-mitz-vo-sov Ve-tzi-vo-nu Le-had-lik Ner Shel Cha-nu-kah. 
* Blessed are You, L-rd our G-d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us by His commandments, and has commanded us to kindle the lights of Chanukah. 


Details | Family Poem |

Like a Rock

I carry my mother 
like a rock in my pocket 

that I just can’t seem to throw away 

It serves me 
no purpose, 
it just weighs me down 

~~~
 
When I first found it, 
when I first picked it up 
and started carrying it with me, 

I thought it so beautiful – 
I could look at it for hours 

But, like my mother, 
it never looked back at me, 
never grew warm under my loving gaze 

For the longest, I was blind to that, 
Blind to anything but the beauty, 
blind to the cold, hard, 
beyond-remote nature of the rock,
of my mother,
my stone

~~~

I carry my mother,
a thought without weight

And she’s heavier

and she’s colder

than all the stones
there are

~~~
 
By the time I recognized her 
immutable, emotional unavailability, 
I had run out of joy,
felt depleted of hope –

But I could not,
for the life of me,
stop seeking a beauty, a warmth,
inside her heart

Could not stop
wishing
that one day this stone,
my mother,
deep inside my pocket,

Might just become
its own opposite –

Change from hard to fluid,
from cold to warm

But my rock, my hard burden,
will only turn to water

When my mother
stops being
a stone


Details | Family Poem |

Loving Helena

The chair is her home, her universe now
It is all that her many years will allow
Helena’s elegant beauty once shone
Now her mind wanders a world of its own

Age has changed her body but not her heart
Many great stories she’d always impart
To the wide-eyed grandchild she admired so
A girl who has loved her since long ago

Tales of black velvet gowns in which she’d dance
Soft moonlit beaches where she found romance
Economic hardships that came to pass
The rise and the fall of each social class

Her hands and face are now weathered with age
Accounts of the past still flow from this sage
And though some repeat again and again
I still listen now, just as I did then

I’ve memorized these tales, her gifts to me
And always I’ll remain her devotee
It matters not that my name escapes her
Love from her eyes she can always confer

Grandma brushes fingers across my face
And whispers, “Beautiful,” as we embrace
Though I miss years when she knew me so well
I know in the past her memories dwell

My love for her lingers, it always will
I take comfort knowing she loves me still


Details | Family Poem |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…


Details | Family Poem |

The Love of a Gentle Man

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)


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