Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Quatrain Dad Poems | Quatrain Poems About Dad

These Quatrain Dad poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Dad. These are the best examples of Quatrain Dad 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 | Quatrain |

12,045 Days ......(and counting)

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......

Copyright © Abe Lopez | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |

All Gods Creations

We walked on the beach, just Daddy and me, And looked for shells in the sand. We found a starfish holding tight to a rock Then we walked down the beach holding hands. He showed me where clams had made holes in a stone; We watched how the waves filled a pool. Then he told me all about fish and such things And he joked, "Even they go to school." We ran from the waves and made castles of sand. And talked about Jesus awhile. I could tell how Dad loved him, Jesus I mean, From the tear in his eye, and his smile. We climbed to the top of a really high cliff To watch the sun hide in the sea. Then daddy told me, "Of all that God made, His greatest creation was me." All God’s Creations By: Dean Wood 7/24/2017 Quatrain 1st Place END JULY STANDARD CONTEST Sponsor: Brian Strand

Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

Dad's Last Ball Game

Being the shortest in my high school gym class
Attempts to play basketball brought no success
Broke my finger while trying to catch a pass
Leaping to take balls from tall girls? What a mess!

Always loved football, baseball and soccer too
But in basketball I succumbed to defeat
Just couldn’t get into it, that is true
Till Dad took me to see the Miami Heat

Startled he was, watching me jump up and down
Although my enthusiasm was contrived
The cheers of other fans my loud voice did drown
This was the last time I saw my Dad alive

I’m so thankful now that I went to that game
Dad was so grateful for these moments we shared
When I watch basketball now, it’s not the same
It was Dad and not the sport for which I cared

*Entry for Deb’s “Play Ball” contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

Titanic Forever

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

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

What Dad Taught Me

Blow on a dandelion and wish
God's parachutes, my dad would say
Then fold your hands, whisper a prayer
And watch them as they float away

You can say anything to God
So talk to Him like He's your friend
God answers all our prayers, sweet girl
Because His love will never end

God cares for us, and He is wise
He knows what's right and just and true
The Lord may say the time is right
And in His grace, say yes to you

But though you may not understand
Sweet child, believe the Lord knows best
So do not be surprised sometimes
If He says no to your request

So dear, give thanks for all His gifts
Both granted and to those denied
For you never really can go wrong
If you trust Him to be your guide

Copyright © Andrea Doherty | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Dad Was The Last Snowflake

The last great snowflake standing
Little snowflakes fell swiftly
All around the house they fell
Eight male flakes_three little girls

House was lively in winter
As they all warmed by the fire
Boys' boistour tales, girls brush long hair
Then silence all rested heads

At four A.M. each morn_chores
Breakfast, lunch packed off to school
Walking that long mile was rule
School was important dad said

Soon the oldest snowflake wed
As life goes all followed him
Leaving the warm hearth behind
Some of them to produce twins

As life goes_death visited
All their humble doors sadness
Some had children die at birth
And some at very young age

What they saw in their lifetime
Changes that took place_cars_planes
Atom bomb that ended war
None their warm family disgraced

Death started visiting doors
One above  middle went home first
Then slowly they all went home
But dad was the last snowflake

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |


In all my years I've never seen 
a face so weathered, yet seldom mean.
A semblance of a younger man
of whom I was the biggest fan.

A tired soul in eyes so hollow,
where he went this kid would follow.
Now he's resting more and moving less.
Is this what's left for God to bless?

Disease and age have beat him down,
yet no one ever sees him frown.
Mortal thoughts creep in as days go by.
What's it really like when we die?

But he won't dwell on that, with time so fleeting,
and his mind still sharp, despite the beating.
No he won't complain, why even bother?
My hero is this wonderful father.

Copyright © James Nichols | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

The Day Dad Planned His Funeral

They said you needed surgery.
You said 'There's business I must do.'
I drove you to the funeral home.
The arrangements were for you.

I had to wait outside that day.
I couldn't go in there.
I don't know how you made those plans.
You showed how much you cared.

You knew you wouldn't make it.
You feared the end was near.
I hate what your life did to you.
I wish you were still here.

How do you plan your funeral? 
Were you as scared as I? 
What were your thoughts heading to the docs? 
Did you know that you would die? 

If I could turn back time and say
the things I'd like to say, 
I'd say 'I love you' and 'I'll miss you.'
'I wish that you could stay! ' 

Copyright © Mary Nagy | Year Posted 2005

Details | Quatrain |

I Wasn't Alone

There on that bench, here in this park
Was where I met God, alone in the dark.
He wasn’t adorned with riches galore.
He was a pauper man, not needing more.

He sat with me then, as I was so scared.
Just eight years old, and I got lost at the fair.
Separated from family, didn’t know where to go
I sat on the bench and waited there so.

Along came this man, scared of him I was
Until he sat next to me, I lost fear because
He spoke with a tone and offered a hand,
A sign to me that he would understand.

I told him my story. He said not to fear.
He’d stay with me until family was near.
I felt reassured and safe as could be.
His warm soft voice, it blanketed me.

Then in the distance, my dad had appeared.
He was right all along, I had nothing to fear.
My dad came up crying and hugged me so tight.
I then turned to that man to wish him goodnight.

He was there on the bench, I knew it for sure.
When I turned my head, he wasn’t there anymore.
I looked at my dad and told him of my tale
He smiled back at me and fell awfully pale.

He said, “Son when you need him, God does appear.
It’s not very strange that He was right here.
He serves and protects and loves us all much.
I believe He was here and gave you His touch.”

I was amazed at those words that my father said.
I couldn’t wait to go home and pray at my bed.
“Dear God up in the Heaven, I thank you, I do.
You sent me a savior and that savior was You.

You reached to this child, protected this night.
You offered him hope and provided light.
You took away his fear and made him feel warm.
Mostly, Dear God, you kept him from harm.

Thank you.”

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008

Details | Quatrain |

I love you Dad

So many things I want to tell you my Dad
But I choke up in tears feeling awfully sad,
I grew-up so fast since the day you died
Pledging urgently to do well as tears dried.

Don't recall listening to anything you said
Never took trash out, never made my bed, 
You asked me to study, keep up my grades
Instead I focused on video games I played. 

To earn my badges, we went on scouting trips 
Soon after, I stopped going to their meetings.
You will be proud Dad, now I have some clout
I honored your will becoming an Eagle Scout.

Remember the day when we played baseball 
You stole second base ahead of my fast ball.
Recalling happy times with love and might
We miss you so much at dinner every night. 

I have aced my grades in science and  math
Well on my way to choosing a career path,
I'm proud to tell you Stanford accepted me
On a full scholarship I'll complete my degree.

I was so self absorbed, always feeling mad
I never told you how much I love you Dad.
I wish to be just like you, but can never be
Standards you set are so high to achieve. 

I have taken a job to help Mom pay the bills
We watch every penny avoiding the thrills.
Mom will visit you soon, she's well as can be
Please let her know you're so proud of me!

Placed 2nd
September 16, 2017
Poems that paint a picture 2
Painting by: Mike Theuer
Sponsor: Silent One

Copyright © Vijay Pandit | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

My Dad

When we talk, he calls me Gal
and it always warms my heart
Especially when we're on the phone
cuz we're so far apart

I've never told him this
how much it means to me
That no one else has ever
used this warm metonymy

So tenacious all his life
In his ways he's very set
No matter what he does
It's right, on that you can bet

Do what you think is right
To us he's always told
Our decisions were always backed
My father's loyalty is GOLD

I hope he knows I love him
I tell him every time we speak
Don't ever quit calling me Gal
And I'll always kiss your cheek

Copyright © Wendy Beaudoin | Year Posted 2007

Details | Quatrain |

Fallen Victim

I have fallen victim so many times
To nobody's fault except only mine.
I will ask for forgiveness and have faith,
Even though I feel like I am not saved.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Papa, Mama and Winnie

I’ve placed it in the most visible place
This old photo of black and white
Taken in 1943, the edges worn and frayed  
Papa, Mama, Winnie, eyes bright

Though one by one they’ve all gone
They’ve left legacies of love, faith
And the sweet memories linger on
This beautiful photo transmits

When I look at their eyes
Warmth and gentleness residing                   
Dressed in their best, wearing subtle smiles
Beauty is captured, surviving!
Inspired by a beautiful photo of my parents and eldest sister...R.I.P.

Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

What I Swore I'd Never See

Lately when I look in a mirror
I see what I swore I'd never see.
For there's an image of my father
shamelessly staring right back at me. 

There is his fat belly I hated
hanging profusely over my belt.
And the droopy bags under his eyes
now sag under mine as the years melt.

I see the scars time etched on his face
with every wart and worry wrinkle.
And I see his empty hollow eyes
that over time had lost their twinkle.

I see his face and his balding head
for age had stolen most of his hair.
And with his crinkled cheeks and false teeth
I swear it's him not me standing there.

Yet I've grown fond of this timeworn look
for I know how each blemish was earned.
And finding my father looked like me
is a most humbling lesson learned.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Divine Love

Though we see Him 
Or see Him not
He remains with us
With his divine incense. 

Copyright © Fatima Hasan Zaidi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |



    To teach me always
           with love
I could ask for nothing else
          from above.

Thank you and LOVE always!

Copyright © Maryam Jameela Haniff | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |


Happy Father's Day, Dad,
You know, You Da Man,
And I just want to let you know,
That I'm your biggest fan.

There's no one else in all the world,
Who'd do the things you do.
You're there whene'er we need you.
No matter what, there's you.

You're the man who has the plan,
The one I always turn to.
My buddy, pal, my mentor,
There's fathers, then there's you.

                                   Judy Ball

Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

Old Blue

Soon after Dad bought the little farm He bought a Jersey milk cow Said Old Blue's a real milk producer I’ll hand milk since I know how Then we had fresh raw milk all the time Made butter by using a churn Sold all the raw milk we didn’t use So some extra bucks were earned There was no waste from butter or cream The pigs would just get a treat Of course dad milked early each morn Tote hot water, wash the teats No getting away with a milk cow Twice a day Dad milked Old Blue Hated to milk cold winter mornings Just something he had to do The farm let Dad get back to his roots Said it was good for the boys That why he bought the farm and live stock To live a life he enjoyed

Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

Letter to Mum and Dad

Letter to Mum and Dad

Dear Mum, Dear Dad, you're gone from my life.
I remember you now as a good husband and wife.
Dad, I saw you lay there. Lifeless, quite still.
The shocks that they gave you, zapped at my will.

When I touched you, your body, still warm, lips blue.
A far cry from the father, the man I once knew.
Your cheeks in contrast, stood out, quite bold.
Your hand I touched. That memory I hold.

Mum, I never saw you, when you passed away.
You were alone in your bed, so it's for you that I pray.
I remember you most, for the love that you gave me.
Always caring, never judging, I wished I could save thee.

Now that you're gone, I don't feel alone.
You're the best parents in life, this child could have known.
So it's with you in memory, my life has begun.
I remain as always, your ever loving son.

Copyright © Chris Matthews | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

I Live By My Daddy's Creed

What drives people to kill one another Are they made of different stuff Is their brain matter arranged so differently Can't imagine being angry enough Enough to take the life of another human Over passion, possessions, or greed So foreign to everything I have ever learned I live by my daddy's creed Dad once told me when I was just a tike Each one of us is created equal I've never forgotten his words to this day Prejudice is absolutely pure evil What gives man the right to claim otherwise To aquire an unsatiable appetite To pillage and plunder for the sake of power We all meet the same end despite Wars have been fought for as long as forever At my age I won't see an end As long as each one of us has love in our hearts We can hold our heads high, my friends © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

How I Remember Dad

I am a daughter,
but I’m dad’s namesake.
For four generations, 
“middle-name” Braxtons.

Dad taught me much
“Tobble” meant fair to middlin’
he was tobble patient
teaching me to drive.

I cried at church -
didn’t know how to tell time.
He took me home right then
and showed me how.

Dad was the fixer.
“Pert near” meant almost;
he pert near built our house.
He let me do the roof shingles.

His strong hearty laugh
never met a stranger.
“Peak ed” meant sickly
and cancer left him peak ed.

Christmas 1989 he said goodbye.
He taught us to be prepared -
He was ready to go,
peaceful and sure.

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Humble but Heroic

He was the leader of the band till age ninety-three Won the Senior Olympics five-mile race thirty times In the Depression Dad worked to feed his family And succeeded by pinching all nickels and dimes Never raised his voice in anger; that was not Dad’s way Gave money to educate Native Americans But he didn’t once mention the cash he gave away To animal rights causes and disabled veterans At six feet, broad-shouldered, he handled Mom’s depression And brightened children’s lives with his dramatic antics Making up stories on the spot with imagination He mastered the art of pulling laughs from his bag of tricks Friends were jealous; none had a father as kind as mine Imagine the pride I felt when he walked me down the aisle A humble man who never complained, not even one whine Though I’m alone now, Dad made my childhood worthwhile He didn’t wear Superman’s cape or have a magic ring Some might have mistaken him as an ordinary man But Dad set the bar so high, to me he was a king No boys could ever match him, the hero of our clan
*For Jeanette Fisher’s “Holding Out for a Hero” Contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |


This was written in 2009.....I never gave it to him:


A man of infinite intellect told me to start thinking about thinking
And believe me that his is indisputable intelligence
The only problem is too much of the time I am thinking about drinking
Or doing the distinctly dishonest thing with duly deemed diligence

So I decided to write these words for no good reason at all
The only reason for scribing this is because I felt it was what I was supposed to do
I’ve discovered it’s difficult to think when you’re banging your head on a wall
And thinking about doing the right thing, to me, is a concept too brand new

So I am sitting here thinking about thinking with dedication
Yet with perseverance I am perceiving the dark and the dim
This man of infinite intelligence spoke words with an important implication
And I am also thinking about my father and how advantageous it would be if I were more like him
Too late now, sadly

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

A Father's Love

     While in my youth, heart pounding with life
     Father and son hiked nature's glory
     Climbed the tallest mountains, escape city strife
     Quaking Aspens surround, listen to their story

     Oh the sights of autum, every picture a masterpiece 
     Orange, yellow and red splashed with God's paint brush 
     Crisp autum air, blue sky above, sun a Golden Fleece
     Soundless footsteps, nature's soft carpet hush

     My father's soul, visits me at times, love surround 
     Emersed in nature's eternal power, I'm in tune
     A cool autum breeze, Quaking Aspen gentle music sound
     His spirit whispers to me, we'll climb mountains again soon

Copyright © Bruce Adams | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

My Not So Strange Dad

While eating barbecued chicken last night Realized it was once a living creature All of a sudden I felt quite strange about eating it Now I'm not a vegetarian preacher What made me think about it after all my years And the amount of chicken I've downed Not sure but I really didn't like the feeling Must have eaten hundreds of pounds My dad was a pseudo vegetarian of sorts Very rarely eating any kind of meat So it seems after all these many years later His motivation was not quite so unique Back then he was considered a wee bit strange With some of the ideas he chimed Now realize after more than sixty years later He was just a bit ahead of his time <3 <3 <3 © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |



This is the tale of Andre and Lowell
Andre was black and Lowell was white
this is the tale of the car both of them stole
and a court system that just ain't right

Andre was from the hood where money is scarce
and the inhabitants lived day to day
the days could be combative and the nights were fierce
but Lowell came from the right side of the San Francisco Bay

Lowell's dad had a high paying job down town
Andre's dad worked for the day labor folk
Lowell went to a dance with a girl in a gorgeous gown
Andre couldn't go anywhere because his family was broke

one night the two friends had nothing to do
when both of their visions espied a Porshe, brand fu*king new
Andre knew the ins and outs of hot wiring a car
and Lowell knew it would take them near or far

well they didn't get very far that night 
because suddenly red and blue lights began to flash
the night was dark but the colored lights were bright
and all six cops were burly and brash

so they were cuffed and taken to jail
and they both need money to get out
of course Lowell got out because daddy made bail
and thus began a course in what racism is all about

the next morning they met before the judge
Lowell sat there in ease knowing he had a lawyer expensive as hell
Andre stayed motionless, afraid to make a budge
and his body a lot of sweat to quell

one separate trial but two outcomes were announced
Lowell's daddy had money so the lawyer cost seventy-five grand
Andre's jaw dropped when he heard his sentence pronounced
as he thought about how men on the chain gang became so tanned

Andre got five to eight years in a prison upstate
Lowell got no community service and a ninety dollar fine
all Andre could do was complain to his present cell mate
while Lowell continued buying caviar and drinking the finest wine

so that was the tale of a car, two friends and justice denied
because the rich and poor have two different laws
behind her mask the lady of law simply cried
and instead of nails she should have claws
               © 2012....copyright PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~

Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

My Loved Hero

I've written of him oft before,
You will find him on my pages
My daddy was my big hero 
Who was wiser than the sages. 

I'll admit there have been others
Whom I have let into my heart.
But my daddy need not worry.
No one could ever take his part.

He worked hard for his family
And never seemed to think of self.
If he had needs or wants at all
He kept them on an empty shelf.

He lived through those depression days
Working hard and doing his best. 
He asked God to send sun and rain
And promised he would find the rest.

I shared him with my six siblings,
They claimed him as their hero too.
He labored for us six days then
Saved Sunday to give God  his due.


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

Family Life

Brother, Big “J”, was the first born I was the last to arrive Born to some loving parents Our family life did survive In my family as I grew up It was Dad who was “Da Man” And Dad and Mom would speak as one That’s how our family ran Never did I hear a cross word Spoken between Dad and Mom If waters churned behind closed doors I only saw waters calm My folks both come from the old school Sparing the rod’s not their thing Dad did most of the discipline Sometime he punished with pain When Big “J” or I, did bad things Mom would say in a low tone Words that we both hated to hear “Just wait till your Dad gets home” As I grew older, I soon found A whipping isn’t so bad Punishment by a tongue lashing Could really make you feel sad It was off to church each Sunday Then we would go out to eat To Luby’s Cafeteria To me that was such a treat We took a family vacation To a new place every year It was planned to fit our budget We did things kind of austere Most of his life, Dad was a cop Of one sort or another A grandson became a cop too As did one of his brothers Now Dad was a “Jack of All Trades” Must have learned lots on the farm My Mom was an excellent cook Our food was always served warm Both had a great sense of humor My Dad could tell a good joke He did have one bad habit though For many years he puffed smoke I lost Dad at age fifty three Mom left at seventy two I’m the only one still alive Brother Big “J” is gone too Of course I miss them all so much They left me here all alone Those memories from my early years No longer shared, since they’re gone

Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |


DADS LITTLE BLACK BOX…. When I was a tiny tot, just up off the ground, My dad had a little black box, which mad a lot of sound. It would go off, during the night, on with the boots,& out of sight. My dad is, a fire fighter you see, Being all that he could be. Through the summer, he was gone a lot, Fighting fire which, burnt so hot. Winter came, as did rain, Dad’s black box would, sound again. He is a fire fighter, you see, Mending things for you and me. One day when I was older, I made a decision that would make me bolder. I would to be a fire fighter Making peoples days much brighter. I’d climb into to that big red truck, With my dad and all our luck, We’d fight the fire, side by side Clean the mess with the greatest pride. I’ll wear the black boots, just like my dad, Wear my yellows, and whistle a tad. I know the next time my black box will sound I’ll be on my way, to the fire ground. I’ll meet him there and when we’re done I’ll hug him tight and say thanks for the fun. For my dad is a fire fighter you see Just like him, I’ve come to be.

Copyright © Laura Tallon | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |


I must have been six years old When my Dad came home one day He had a shoe box under his arm What’s in it? He wouldn’t say Mom said it’s a surprise for you It’s something that’s really great You can see it after dinner If you both clean your plate My bro and I scoffed it down We just couldn’t wait to see When Dad took off the lid We were happy as can be A Boston terrier puppy dog As tiny as he could be His Mom wouldn’t feed her pups That’s why we got him for free No solid food for several weeks An eye dropper used to feed The first two weeks were nip and tuck But then he grew like a weed My Dad said “it’s your dog boys” Come up with a name that’s right We thought, we fought and finally agreed So we named him “Dynamite”

Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2011