Sun Father Poems | Sun Poems About Father

These Sun Father poems are examples of Sun poems about Father. These are the best examples of Sun Father 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 | Narrative |

The Bottomless Pit

From the bottom of an abandoned gravel pit
behind my childhood home, seated, 
leaning against its hardpacked sandy side,
he watched the July sun set,
the empty prescription bottle at his side.

Did he walk that day to his unnatural fate
slowly, shoulders rolling like a big cat,
alternating first one, then the other, 
forward, head bent, one black errant
curl tumbling across his troubled forehead.

Did he hesitate or did he hurry
and did he think of me, just 12,
soon to be fatherless, before he
began his two weeks of decomposing
in the hot Texas sun until
the man on horseback found him
while looking for a lost calf. 

I couldn't blame my mother 
for the divorce she filed.
I had wanted him to leave, too,
and hadn't I prayed he would die
when he dragged her over the yard,
by a handful of her hair clasped
tightly in his fist,
because she had cut it without his permission.
Especially the next day when I found
the clump of auburn hair caught in the lush 
purple blooms of the wisteria bush,
I wanted him to die.

He played his harmonica for me,
and I sang, "Daddy's Little Darling, 
Don't you think I'm sweet?"
But I prayed my dad would die,
and though I asked God to ignore those
prayers of terror, I will never be able to
love enough wayward men to save my dad.

Copyright © Emerson Adkins | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |


Let us come to measure sky,
It's length, breadth
height, weight, width, area
everything, everything to be measured.
Sitting on the back of cloud,
flying to end point of sky,
And thus,
to uplift our stature and head. 
If, measuring tape will not support
We will measure with our hand
And go up to moon
Moon, that comes to our lap
With every call of our mom.
We will play there, 
revolving round and round,
on the dusty & wavy ground.
Then again, we have to measure
the hidden sound of lullaby
that mother used to sing,
The eternal love that grow within us
with soft tender wing, hidden under hill.
At the evening, we’ll return back
jumping from that high,
Let us come to measure sky,
Let us come to measure sky.

We will suppose to measure
The distance of land of stars
With the support of a rope
Stretching from heart of moon
And fixing with the soul of sun.
We have to measure 
The intensity of glow of each star
Where our grand parents
breathing their pleasant life,
and blessing us to stay peace.
And at last,
We have to step ahead
to visualize the Sun 
measuring intensity of its ray,
Temperature in June
And temperature in May.
Everything we have to weigh.
We know,
Our mind is enlightened with whose light,
Our heart is so strong with whose heat,
Our soul is like ocean, grown from which point,
He is our father, light of our day,
Let us come to measure sky,
Let us come to measure sky.

Copyright © Manmath Dalei | Year Posted 2016

Details | Epic |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra


My father told me 
first time 
I was just a boy then,
“Follow the scent of paddy flower
move with the wind it carries,
surely you will go to heaven.”

I remember
he would catch 
fistful of wind
bring near to my face
and wonder,
“Isn’t it godly!”

Magically, opened his hand
but I never felt
what scent he meant.
Days of kind rain

“Son, see the misty wind
rushing all over the paddy field
comes every year
to drink the scent of paddy flower.”

Mere as a boy
I could see only
tides of a green plane
touching my little finger
and racing far… too far.
I would ask  
“Where have they gone?”
Smiled my father 
and said
“Did not you listen,
they are going to heaven,
call the goddess then,
‘come goddess dear’
we all are ready with paddy flower.”

Curious was my face,
“Papa, then?”

“Goddess will arrive smiling
her feet will be here
Seeing a pot in her hand
all those paddy flowers
delighted, will open their mouth more wider
and life will be poured…”

“Where these flowers come from?”

Remained my father smiling
speaking all his mind
looking high at sky
asked me to see there
spoke he again.

“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
on the first day of its shower
kind rain would ask me to come here
with bagful of paddy seeds,
‘let seeds be spread all over,
let its eternal relation with soil
be the fertilizer’
when all said is done
waiting rain 
starts showering its kind
make visible hiding life in the abyss of seed.
Happy wind changes color
being green all around
waits for the day
when the wind would smell the scent of paddy flower.”

Days passed by,
kind rain was still in waiting
sometimes hidden beyond horizon
or simply making sun blind with its smoky face
and whenever wind said,
‘Dry I’m now’
quenched the thirst.

Someday wind played naughty with sun
asked kind rain to make it misty
and with brushes of sun rays 
painted a rainbow on the face of east sky.

Wait was over
green field blossomed with flowers
and wind said,
“Fill in my heart
with scent of flower
I shall bring life…”

Happy was my father’s voice
“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
said so
green wind brining life 
did so
scent of paddy flower
is made so.
Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
kind rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”
Cruel entropy

How old was I then
nine or ten
my father looked up
up to the sky
again and again
for a month long
only to see 
change of sky’s color
from the color of a summer day to a long humid night.
Dry wind cried at last
over my father’s sweating body
“Rain, rain O kind rain, where have you gone.”

One day sudden
kind rain came again.
Cried to my father
“Why no green wind came this year
from ocean 
to bring me here.
Desert wind why
dry my breath
seeds you have sown
how could I then
enliven with my rain.”

many question
my father had asked the rain.

Short-lived, hurried rain could spell its last breath,
“I am not that rain 
as was your friend,
I am the curse of dying forest
I am the ghost of all pollution
I am born out of acid weather…”

Who knew, it left for where?

My father cried 
As kind rain left him alone
hiding in a dry wind’s bone.

My father was still
going every morning
asking the soil
in vain
if soil could alone
make the paddy flowers to be born.

Year passed by,
came back the time, 
for green wind to bring kind rain.

Rain came one day.

But why
as a cloudburst
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?

Dumb remained my father
for days together
sad was his voice at last,
“Run away, son, run away from here,
sky rain wind
river village land;
thread of this garland
who cuts it
go, stop now there hand.”

Draught and flood,
uncertainty of life 
changed my mind 
as of a farmer’s son.
Books, studies and education
reasons, truth and compassion
might have had fulfilled my father’s mission.

Does not this civilization
converts us 
as the products to do more production.
Run, run and run 
run ahead of time
let be it, at the cost of inhaling killer tension,
stress taking  over your life.
Insomnia, cholesterol or cynicism
is our success’s companion? 
‘A’ is shaped as ‘B’
and ‘B’ is sold as ‘C’.
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

Scent of life

So here, I am again
standing in front of this green plane
searching for the shadow of my father.
Green wind surrounds my existence
I can see the dance of those bunches.
My mind whispers to my ear
echoes those words of my father, 
“Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”

I never felt so,
what I smell now 
is the scent of paddy flower.

Copyright © Goutam Hazra | Year Posted 2013

Details | List |

Give Me Shelter From The Storm

With faces in the window having storms in the night

You gave me promises they gave me pain
When will we ever live to understand this game
Give me shelter from the storm within cause we may never live again
In shattered dreams brought through its timely theme

Many are still wandering alone in the darkness of night

A plate of desire poured out with a creme sauce of desolation

At the mountain top the unique summit has a keen sense of view
Through ardent Spring lingers through a papal elect few
It's sought after portal of death as glue
Shutters through the spark at morn,

Some would even bother to curse the very day they were actually born;

A sought after portal which breathed in death
Yet still marked on its blotted page very much fully intact,

Working too hard can give anyone an instant heart attack
Smoke filled rooms filled up in fetters cry of full forced desolation;
In combersome threats the chief negotiator left,
A fields of dreams coming apart at the seams

A port in storm through emmense pain where through,

Give me shelter from the storm,
Amidst total sadness with stillness we soon learn to reflect
Just as in some twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in some one track mind that was fully set on some mission

The certain timely strain on the heart can light its inner spark;

Give me shelter from the storm amidst the sequence of outer pain,
In pain to harm the weary soul in which one can helplessly lose all control

Amidst viable dreams proned in an onslaught filled preminition
The sought after portal to death,
Yet still again marked on a blotted page fully intact
In timeless combersome threats toward their negotiable left

A field of dreams coming apart at its seams

Give me shelter from the storms of life amidst its inner strife
Amidst sadness within stillness will learn to reflect;
Just as in a twilight sun that has tainted my inner vision
Perhaps its in a one track mind that's head out on a mission

That certain spark within a strain on a heart can light a timely spark

Give me shelter from its storm
Very much haunted by an eclipse of the sun
Through a quaint rehearsal in its timeless cue
In distinguishing truth dismissed from its ultimate error

Many will escape into a quadratic motif through that of choice

A world filled still fixed in telling lies within its tormented souls
Broken skulls with fragmentation of vile demise
That quick fix challenge just not to have to deal with reality.

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Patradoot or The Messenger 38 /Many

Patradoot or The Messenger 38 /Many

English version by Ravindra K Kapoor 
Originally written in Hindi by my 
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

The charm and beauty of her lovely eyes, dear,
I could not find even in the loveliness of a deer,
Such are the fascinating charms of her eyes, 
Even the Sun would not come out feeling shy. 

If any tears would appear in her eyes by mistake,
It would get burnt by the shine of her eyelids, dear letter,
Even the bunch of deer moving here and there
Would feel shy to behold the beauty of such eyes.

Such lovely pairs of my beloved’s eyes would be luster less
Because of her long waiting for me and her silent sobbing,
The moment she would see and hear you, dear letter,
Tears would start coming out from her eyes like rivers.

Her face use to shine like the full Moon, dear letter,
After the tender touch of my love rains,
In compassion of seeing such beauty of her, dear,
The Moon too would feel shy to appear before her.

During the chewing of beetle leafs dear letter, 
Her lips used to get red,  darker than the lotus petals,
Seeing even Sun with its alluring redness would feel,
Shy to come out before my beloved,  dear letter. 


Kanpur India      09th Sept 2010                     continues in 39

Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor

Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections 

If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can 
Send me an email on

Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father 
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.

He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom 
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned 
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath 
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in 
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas, 
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary 
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990. 
He left this mortal world in 1994.

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |


the Father visits his son in the dark of day
The son is abed, pale in the light of night
For the sun and moon are witness in this hour of twilight
But the sun is not heat and does not shine as bright
And the moon is not rigid rock
The sun is a warm hope, fading ever so slightly
The moon is softness, the dark is soothing

The son is abed, covers sprawled over his listless form
The son is restless, he doth not sleep
The son is ebbing, his heart does weep
and his Father lifts the covers up tight around his chest
and kisses his brow;
The son blinks wearily, smiles wanly, whimpers meekly

Sleep my son, the Father whispers

But I cannot sleep - Sleep eludes him
I want to play - Rest prances about him
close enough to want, just out of reach
And how can I sleep father? - How can he rest atop this fated bed?
When I wish to wake? - When his heart doth weep restlessly?

the Father wavers, he caresses the son's brow, but not his heart
For the heart is within, the caress without,
Rest my son, he says, rest and forget
The Father, gently, lovingly, pulls the covers up, tight around the son's neck

But father, father why
My heart will not sleep
Five more minutes? Just five.

Sleep son, the hour is late, the time is neigh

And the Father, always lovingly, he pulls the covers tight over the son, and lowers him into 
the ground.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ballad |


And here I stand, in the sky I see
A star, a sun, a ball of fire and heat he be.
He gives us warmth and in the day, gives us light,
Only subsiding in the wake of that which is night.
And now, in the summer, it graces us well,
He shines upon our world with many stories to tell.
A bright herald of holiday in the middle of the year.
A time of happiness and fun and never a tear.
And although he might vanish behind the cloud of grey,
Moments after, he would reappear and stay.
The triumphant hierarch of the solar system, he’d reign,
A being who carries the other planets with vain.
Never too far and never too near,
Around him our earth would circle and steer.
Forever he’ll rule and forever he’ll burn,
On his surface, the hellish flames will churn.
Never stare upon his shining face,
For he will blind you with his light and grace.
So keep your sunscreen or your skin he will sting,
For he is Solaris, The almighty sun King.

Copyright © Oliver Liore | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |


It is...within the tiny things of early morning, that moment breaths alive, it is within the tiny whisperings, that a melodye the very dear and the antelope, play home on the range.

so goes the melodye of heart beat, that plays quietly the songs of soul,

here a rhyme is born of day-light coming so soon, through the early morning eyes of the moon-light, and the starry dreams of twilight's transitioning...

into the light of a love letter written to dawn.

soul to soul conversing, as in this love letter, the letters just join hands with the words and just march across the sky...and at the end of the rainbow, there be plenty of golden time,

way down deep on the inside, the inspired choir, of a bumble bee, or a butterfly, starts to sing, like tiny things that live,

flower to flower,
blossom to bloom,

watered and deeply cared for...

O' Eden.

I say, deep beneath the surface of a wishing well...where the pennies lay,

I wish a sun-rise.

Copyright © Marrio Biggs | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |

You're There, I See You

I close my eyes in darkness
While the world lies down to sleep
As a father and a husband
My family’s mine to keep
Protect them? I am willing
I am always there on guard
But, when I’m not and far away
I trust You are, oh Lord

The rising sun of morning
Has my family’s eyes so wide
As the motor sounds of traffic
Fills the air that floats outside
And the people that are walking
Some are jogging, some just go
Makes me see, what truly is
And all I really need to know

God, You’re there… I see you

In the blue that reigns up in the sky
On the breath of clouds that float on by
The image of the homeless man
Who still offers up his time
As he asks not for, without doing first
So I give water to quench his thirst
To the flowers that grow in the park
And the trees that children climb

God, You’re there… I see you

While coming home at evening time
Knowing my family waits for me
I smile real wide as I walk along
So all the world can see
Maybe then they’ll see just what I see
And then take it on their way
With hopes that they will share a smile
And make better someone’s day

Now the sun has set, children tucked
With a kiss I gave to fall asleep
Standing at the door I see my wife
And I feel the love she gave to keep
I thank you Lord for all I have
For always seeing my family through
Because I know I couldn’t do this alone
That’s why I put my faith in You

God, You’re there… I see you

In the blue that reigns up in the sky
On the breath of clouds that float on by
The image of the homeless man
Who still offers up his time
As he asks not for, without doing first
So I give water to quench his thirst
To the flowers that grow in the park
And the trees that children climb

God, You’re there… I see you

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Pantoum |

A Father's Sun

To be born a girl to a father with patriarchal dreams
born a disappointment to himself was all I could claim. 
A pretty little thing, a trinket, a space holder, a seam,
to be a man is to be wanted to be woman's a shame.

Born a disappointment to himself was all I could claim
Mother cried, and tried but one more girl she bore to his frown
To be a man is to be wanted to be woman's a shame.
I watched and did not wonder as his lips turned upside down.

Mother cried, and tried but one more girl she bore to his frown
If I'd been a boy, his joy would have saved my Mother's heart
as I watched and did not wonder, as his lips turned frown down
I learned being male was something desirable and apart.

If I'd been a boy, his joy would have saved my Mother's heart.
I'd lead the pack, ride the rails, see the world, eat it all whole.
I learned being male was something desirable and apart.
But I'd not use my powers to break countless hearts untold.

Many children I'd seek, daughters and sons, all wanted each one
born a disappointment to himself was all I could claim. 
But a man, such as I'd be, would cherish daughters not shun
to be a man is to be wanted to be woman's a shame.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |


Smoking spitter,
Hell is where is holiday,
We watch you stare us down,
Falling, but held in heaven's black old town,

Son of no father,
Father of everyone,

Is your kind of fire in my kind of heart?,
We are all born blind,
So do we all shine from the start?,

Sitting between the shine and shade,
Am I the "We" that you forbade?,
Watching you stare down,
Still in heaven's black old town,
We just wait... for heaven's sundown,
We, as babies on the ground

Copyright © James Pepper | Year Posted 2014

Details | I do not know? |

Upon this Christmas Day

He sleeps there in a stable
The babe born to the world
Both mother, father watch with care

Though swaddled in a cloth
He is born, yet, to be king
With but just rags for Him to wear

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day

For within the early morning
Angels brought the sky a voice
Calling forth those who wish to hear

Along then, came all others
Knowing truth within their hearts
That all now have nothing to fear

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day

Go forth and tell all others
Who had no chance to hear
The news of hope and of the joy

Let them know the Gift of God
That comes to save us all
His son sent as this little boy

This special morning
The sun now shines bright
From stars there in the Heavens
To the rise of morning light
The world now is much brighter
As angels, too, now play
There’s hope and happiness to share
Upon this Christmas Day

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

The saga of the dusty road

The Saga of dusty roads of Utah 
(To the memory of Don W. Esplin, father of Kathryn Esplin-Oleski)
= =
There he was playing with some mild explosives, 
in his own backyard, a resolute boy he is; 
the June month had swelled like the taut belly of 
a neighborhood lady; the boy wanted to be 
a scientist which he became. He, of course could not 
envision that all these sepia dust of Utah, 
the noon backyard and a young scientist’s narrative 
would be remembered by his explosive daughter 
and a strange Indian was going to pen a saga. 

Alfred Nobel was smiling from a page of a book 

The boy rolled a cigarette, the smoke’s curlicues 
swirl up to grain the picture. A blast almost choked
the bright blue jays and robins. Defused sun slanted.
The end of the road was just an end of the road 
where sun could meet earth, warm grass shook off the heat 
and the covert window of the farm house would yield 
a father and son talk. Strong argument on
future, on an university, on money 
on a world that could differ in generations;
of course the boy, as a father, understood 
his girl, then living apart. But distance is in heart.
He would grow up midst dreams. A quirky wind would blow him 
here and there; navy, marriage and science, 
pharmacology and marriage again; a gust
of wind would take him on a ride that, if he could 
read this he would have said, resembled his truck rides 
down the roads of Utah. But at that point of time
he was wide awake inside his misty night’s sleep 
and an American novel is shooting up 
its multiple heads in search of fresh oxygen. 
The waves of moon were enjoying a full tide.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar

Copyright © Kushal Poddar | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |

Father Sun And Sister Moon

Father Sun and Sister Moon

Father Sun and Sister Moon
Sharing the sky above a twirling blue planet
Never seen together they travel in endless orbit
The planet below needs them both to survive
The sun gives life to everything he shines upon
The moon gives all below her a chance to rest
She has influenced so many thoughts
So many first kisses are shared when she is sitting on the horizon
He creates so many varied colors in nature
Such beautiful rainbows as he breaks through the clouds below
The mere beings below know and some worship each
They are part of everyone’s lives
Lonely siblings drifting through endless space
They know not how they affect that lonely blue planet
They do not know the beauty they bring
They just travel through the darkness forever

Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |

A Day in the Sun

A Day in the Sun

 A good thought, a day in the sun,
 such that allows joy to freely run,
 **** the day blasts out memories fair.
 **** Gentle breezes cruising bright air
 **** as life sings on without a care.
 **** A stir upon the lake down there,
 **** two ducks dancing, O' what a pair
 **** their art they very freely share.
 **** Of our intrusion ducks so unaware
 **** we watching silently not to scare.
 Sweetest memories of family having fun
 a fantastic break from life on the run!

 Robert J. Lindley , 07-26-2014

NOTE:  Duo-rhyme
The Duo-rhyme, a poetic form created by Mary L. Ports,
 is a 10 or 12-line poem, with the first two and last two 
lines having the same rhyme scheme, and the center of the
 poem (lines #3 through #8 or #10) having their own 
separate monorhyme scheme.
12-line: a,a,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,b,a,a

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |

the heat of the sun

The heat of the sun

She looks in the mirror
Don’t recognize her face
Use to be so pretty now she looks
 Like from out of apace
She is just eighteen 
Got in to the wrong crowd
She had some   dreams
Was going to make father proud

Her mother died giving  her birth
 in the back seat of a car
And she grow so beautiful 
You swear she’s   a movie star

She thinks  her  mother die 
because she was born
And all of her life 
She never enjoy the heat of the sun

She looks at the needle
Pick it up and put it down
If she don’t stop now
Could end up six feet under ground

She meets a guy in school
And exchange student from Spain 
He says that he loves her 
And got her hook on cocaine

She tries to fight it 
But the way out was to long
It keep pulling her in
The addiction was to strong

Since then she’s lost it
Her will is being out done
And she is living but don’t
Feel the heat of the sun

Her father loves her 
But he hurts so badly
And  if she goes to him
He will open his arm gladly

She builds up the courage
And when out the room
She says dad help me 
She was in rehab that  afternoon

She’s doing ok now
The carving is gone
She walks on the lawn and it’s the fist time
She feels the heat of the sun

Some times we all 
 May lost our way
But there is always some one
Who wants to help us thru the day?

No one is perfect 
Sometimes may fall down
We have to pick our self’s up
And feel the heat of the sun

Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2012

Details | Didactic |

The Admirals Sun

                                             The Admiral’s Sun                    5th draft – 6-11-2014
A pedestal for your glory and the ego’s your command,
your shadow darkens the people you demand.

Your rusting medals are demanding a respect,
 beyond the value of those you do neglect.

 The world is learning to shun this bloody valor,
 well past due for society’s defining hour.

Beyond your limitations you dared not tread,
your father’s path repeated with dread.

Higher thinking would have polished your crown,
surpassing the gleam that soon finds the ground

Senility and death are your only companions now,
emptiness your spouse and still she does frown.

Michael G. Eggert, March-April, 2014, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

Copyright © Michael Eggert | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

May Gloom

Today is May 9th, and the gloom is here!
Usually this time of year on the coast it is not clear.
Today though the sun is shining through,
Maybe a sign from the Lord, winking His eyes for 
me and you.

On the coast here in Santa Barbara, we go through 
this every year.  
It’s gray, gloomy, most of the time and the sun 
usually hides and it’s not very clear.

But this morning, I was pleasantly surprised.
The Lord has let the sun shine through the clouds, 
He’s allowed it to shine through His eyes.

A lot of times, we let life’s problems allow this gloom.
But through faith, we can avoid the approaching doom.
Belief in our Father is a pre-requisite, just pray in humbly
adoration and remember it’s His spirit.

It’s in all of us, if we search and look.
Having problems?  Read with faith and study His holy book.
Gloom is a reality; it is with every one of us.
When we pray to our Father be happy, reverent and trust 
in His son Jesus.

Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2011

Details | Verse |


northern autumn afternoon
Pitcherelli, ex-marine, body-builder,
Lussier, long-haired father of three dark-skinned children
and myself, sharp-edged loner, ex-lover of a fair share of women
are belly-laughing in the dying sun. Clouds.
The crew, among trees.
over recent visits to marvelous cities where
we could not keep ourselves from touching the terminal buds
of numerous exotic trees
and attracting ridicule of stylish girls and tame boyfriends.
Pitcherelli before the Albany bus station
shaking hands with a red pine planted thirty years ago.
Lussier, one hand in a child's hand and the other
feeling scabrous bark of urban woody plants.
Myself among partially shaved heads and leathery aromatic jackets
getting close to the hairy bud of an unidentified poplar or sycamore.

laughed, but we laughed best
back on our mountain
under the blackening weather.

Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The Longing

On a day where the sky
is so brilliantly blue,
my thoughts are directed
only toward you

To feel the sun 
and the wind on my face,
and your hand in mine
as we stroll about this place

The light shimmers on the water
so radiant, so clear,
like my soul longing
to have you near

The reflection of you
I can see everywhere,
as my heart cries out
because I do so care

The breeze on my face reminds me
of how time has passed,
of how you are growing
and how it has been so fast

Your life has changed beyond measure
and so has mine,
but we can never go back
and we can't ever change time

Our hearts know that we
are connected as one,
a father and his daughter separated...
but never undone

My arms may be empty
because you are not here,
though you are my greatest love...
you never have to fear

As I sit by the water
and watch a sunset unfold,
you are with me always...
the truth has been told

We will see many sunsets
which dance off the water
because of the love
of a father and his daughter

Now, as the sun drifts lower
to meet the night,
I watch in humbled awe
at its spectacular sight

Then my soul renews its faith
in the glory above,
for a father and his daughter longing
yet forever... bonded in love.

Copyright © George Aul | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |

Red Sun

…it’s beauty penetrating my skull...
        Waiting for the coast to clear
              Jingling the cathedral bell
                 With redemption for my soul
                           Of a cause to rise

…Clarions withhold their shovels…
          Fanning the thorns of the dust
               To construct our long lost place of aboard
                     To sour to savor the ruin of its leather
                            And its honey jar

…Oh far till I can’t squint no more…
       Till I can’t drift to the Nile time
           Till I can’t foretell the desires
               Till I can’t forecast the fortune
                  Till I can’t get enslaved in its warmth
                    A  Ray of a rainbow night
                      Oh how all things fade.

Copyright © Afolayan Oluwaseun Olanike | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |

Release The Sun

We captured the sun
...and angered the sea.

Now the fish are protesting,
dressed in black;
like a cavalcade
they rush the land with picket signs.

"Release the sun!
It isn't yours!
Release our father to the sky."

The sea turns black with fury,
erupting with it's rage,
it sinks whole ships
...and islands.

"Release the sun!
It isn't yours!
Release our father to the sky."

The wind carries screams of anguish the plants deprived of carbon
scream in pain.

The trees march into Washington,
demanding federal aid;
the captors send out fire wielders smash descent.

"Release the sun!
It isn't yours!
Release our father to the sky."

The earth who weeps for her partner
brings the rain,
...and the sea enraged strikes up the waves;
till the sun is released from it's cage
...drowning the captors in their own sins.

Copyright © Michael Benkhen | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |


* this is a poem I wrote about my friend's father. It is written like my friend is saying it.


The sun shines brightly as his jokes brighten up people's day.

People's hearts beat fast like a drum as his will to care is shown through his actions.


This man was a storyteller.

A wise man whose story will be known forever.


He was my best friend.

I won't ever forget him like a parent can never forget the birth a child.


That man is my father and he will be missed by many.

But every night I will look up and know he is there.

For although the sun is missed at night I know it is still there.

Copyright © Christina Wiliams | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |

The sun sets

The sun sets 
The sun's flare projected upon the human race,
Time and order,

The sons of whom appeals to the cosmic space 
descended from the heavens and Raised by mortals
The evening comes forth, the daughters of man gathered in the secret lair to assemble the feasts of joy but foreshadowing the the four sons and honoring  the mother, 
The forgiver, the worshiped father
The son's and daughters
The light of one is the flare of love that dwells in every heart, the core of the mighty land's Lingers in the belly of the mother.

the conceived babies
The brothers of man,
The man among-st them,
The dim the meek, 
they shall see the sun's flare 

Man and day,
The month of may
The son's and daughters
All shall praise, 
The son raised by mortals
The quest of the fittest 
The hero ascended into the heavens 
The sky, the mind
The reality which we live,
The high daughters
The low sons, the sin
The dim light, the don 
The mother moon, 

The queen, the goddess 
The love that is lucid
The white cloth, the rogue 
The deep gaze into earth
The three sisters, the mission 
The great son of sun's

Copyright © LIAM ADAMS | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |

Coal Miners

From sun up to sun down, they worked all day,
but down in that hole they always slaved,
light from a lantern, is all they had,
and quitting time really made them glad.
Coal dust covered them from head to toe,
and year after year it hurt them so.
No other jobs could be found back then,
Sons, and fathers, enemy, and friend.
Safety standards were not the best back then,
time was the enemy of the coal miner men.
Cave-in's were common in that cold wet tomb,
where they spent their days, surrounded by gloom.
Times have changed, things are better today,
but still they are in danger, no matter how safe.


Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007

Details | Dramatic Verse |

When the sun rises

(This is a fictional poem)

You destroyed my life when you raped and killed my daughter.
Now you're on death row and you're going to be slaughtered.
You took the only thing in my life that mattered.
I'm glad they're going to fry you, you bastard!
When the sun rises, I don't even want to get out of bed.
I'm miserable and I'm falling apart because she's dead.
You broke into our home and callously killed her with a knife.
I just want you to know that I'll hate you for the rest of my life.

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |


Inside of a minute in the space of an hour
We are forever in your debt, limitless
You, the God Father plenty of the earth
The human blood worth
We will for life times search the golden skies
Sunrise sight fulfilled rectified

Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2017