Best Daughter Poems


Premium Member The Daughter of the North Wind Sings In Soprano

In riming realms 
of crystal contemplations -
frozen water-vapor meditations
and chilled flutes 
filled with zodiacal-light musings 
of ancient cosmic dust 
dancing in the arms of Sol..

windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by the chanting of icicle chimes
gathers momentum
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes adrift in broken chords

she bestrides
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl  
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
on the clattering beat of hailstorm hooves
from streamer-skies of the northern dancers

they fly aloft
on arctic gales of lyrical laughter
igniting the imagination
of her freezing fire
burning now with a blistering whip
and a frostbite nip
that sinks its tingling teeth deep

sailing 
a supernatural stage
amplifying—
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as an avalanche of glazed trinkets 
—descendants of her fertile femininity
skydive
in shivering sixfold symmetry
falling 
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
escalating
in twirling trills 
of glass beaded squalls
swirling her iced eiderdown skirts aflare
baring tempest thighs
storming with a Siberian sting!

..and as her electric eyes spark
luminous with lightning
she buries you in a blizzard 
of opalescent mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.

Premium Member As Father Is To His Daughter

Passing through framed windows like ours,
I recall your tales of reckless war and lost friends
that burned your innocence at 21... and though
you claimed flashes of courage, moist eyes
poured vulnerability looking calm, undaunted.
We both searched deeply into  our souls
as a father is to his young daughter, that I wanted
to let you know, it was alright;
but that mound of shoulders turned away.

Down the years as officer and gentleman,
Time stole long weeks, absent from your dining chair,
leaving me resentful and bitter on hardened sills
until  you arrive under crawling dock of stars.
But in free moments, how you cherished
me so; waking  my cheeks at 3 am to race the winds,
to fly with a shooting neon, laughing with a blue moon.

You spoke of faith and honor if life dared a shame, oh
mild scent of your arms cuddling my girlish dreams...
until off you rode suddenly  on heaven’s wheel.
I see you through all framed windows like ours,
that even if my iced breaths needed you more
as small flowers thirsted for rain, my anger was a cry
for love’s company...  “ I have adored you
in moments  of  distance and nearness, if not
always, then for all eternity.”
Have I forgotten to open this, my soft, broken sigh?
Dad, everything is all right.



Ir0nic Zink's Your Personal Favorite Poem Contest
Resubmitted  5/19/2017

Premium Member A Tear-Ful Conversation With My Daughter

It starts with only one -
one like me
a melancholy migrant
from the immortal part of her
to the locus of her physical being --
the center of her emotional wisdom 

I gain heartfelt strength as I gather my forces
rising up en masse
riding cresting waves of woe
to breach the ramparts - 
the welling rims 
of her loving eyes

it starts with only one -  
one  perfectly  ripened  drop  of  sorrow
this beautifully packaged pain 

and a lustrous cascade of soulful pearls ensues
wept gems pouring forth from a pure heart..

I am the tears your mother cries.


Susan Ashley
May 5, 2018


~ Poem Of The Week ~
Week beginning Sunday, May 13, 2018


~ Seventh Place ~
Contest: Early May Premiere (2018)
Sponsor: Brian Strand


Poet's note; For my beautiful daughter, Jocelyn, you inspire me with your light, joy, spirited determination and intellect. Though your academic pursuits take you many, many miles away from me and I grieve your absence, when you return home I shall celebrate with tears of joy!
For today, however, I'll let my grieving tears speak for themselves...
I love you and I miss you, my Jocee <3


Premium Member Daddy

Daddy

Daddy, why did you go away?
Don't you know I wanted you to stay!

Daddy, when you left mom,
Don't you know you left me too?
Now all I do is cry and cry
--- I want to die!

Daddy, mommy say's it's better this way,
What does she know!
They're not enough band-aids to cover up the blues
Mom's kisses can't heal this kind of pain.

Daddy, I look around 
No one stands in your garage
Daddy, You took every tool
Except the hammer and sitting stool
Daddy, I still miss you 
--- I love you. 
***
Dear Daddy, I'm all grown up now
Haven't seen you since I was 10

Daddy, I sit on your favorite chair,
No longer do I miss the way you caressed my hair.
Daddy, I'm taking the old hammer and this BRAND NEW saw,
It's time to patch all the holes mom punched in the wall 
*The day you walked out on us*
Daddy, don't worry about the times I tripped and fell
Mom found someone to fix  the loose boards,
Got tired of scraping my knees 

Daddy, I finally realized I'm okay,
I agree with mom, it's better this way.

by- Not every dad is great (but step-dad YES!)

Premium Member A Father's Sacrifice

I loved you the first day
I saw those big brown eyes blinking,
taking in your first moments of life.
Not a tear nor a little scream,
you seemed sheltered in my arms.

That was the day I promised to keep you safe and warm.

I remember your attempts to call for me,
gradually turning into 'daddy, daddy, daddy.'
First crawling like a caterpillar, following my every step,
to walking and grabbing my legs.
There you would be waiting at the door, 
always knew when daddy would come home from work.
Telling me you loved me and I was your hero,
as you ran around in your fairy princess dresses.

I promised to make all your dreams come true.

I remember the smiles, tears and laughter,
our special song we sang together -
although you didn't know the words, still you sang along -
now your voice is like a melodious nightingale.
Every time you would fall, always looked towards me,
I would come running and raise you to the sky.
Wiping your tears, spreading those imaginary wings,
but in my heart hoping you would never learn to fly.

When I fell, trials of your father, I kept inside,
hoping you would not see my pain nor the burdens.

Guess you will never know the sacrifices of your father.

How quick you grew, all tall and hair full of locks and curls.
Slowly daddy, turned into dad and being your taxi!
Now you say you are seventeen and you think you know it all,
but you do not realize, you'll always be a baby in my eyes.

If only you could see through your father's eyes.

Sometimes you do not understand why I say no,
and those mini tantrums never last too long.
I know in the future it will all make sense.

You dream about studying far, far away,
travelling this wild, crazy, mysterious world.
Yet, I know every road you venture upon,
one of them will lead you back home.

When days are sunny, 
you smile sweetly, walking headstrong,
but when there is thunder and rain clouds follow -
those sweet brown eyes always turn to me -
always ending in 'thank you for being my daddy.'
Adding to the millions of 'I love you more.'

Little do you know that is impossible.

Silent One
5 October 2020
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member If Ever I Don't Know

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and 
can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words"
                                                                          ~ CS Lewis

If ever I don't know your name
  recall these words that I now write:
no season ever stays the same -
   fall yields to winter, day to night.

If ever I forget your face -
   though hard to fathom now, dear child,
I ask you to recall the days
   we walked on trails through canyons wild.

Those nights we camped under the stars
   and filled our lungs with mountain air,
the trips we took in vans or cars
   while singing songs from here to there.

Remember beach days, Sunday hikes, 
   or at the lake shore skipping stones,
those Saturdays we rode our bikes
   for donuts or for ice cream cones.

I hope you won't become too sad
   nor let my absence cast a pall,
for I will always be your dad
   I pray our good times you'll recall.
   
Now go and make new memories -
   in moving on, you play your part.
Sing soft our favorite melodies,
   I'll sing along deep in your heart.

written 25 June 2022
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Homeless Mans Love For His Daughter

A homeless man played his guitar,
for coin rewards put in a jar.
 A lonely life he always led,
but in his heart a love he had.
 This love he thought of all the time,
 during the cold days brought sunshine.
 His songs were of a girl he loved,
he sang to her, with stars above.
 So many years had gone on by,
but in his heart, and reasons why.
 There was this hope that would not die,
the thought of her just made him cry.
 

Dedicated to my 
daughter Ashley...
 
Michael Tor

Premium Member Who Can Argue Miracles Exist

Who Can Argue Miracles Exist?

No man, be he grandiloquent or coarse;
             be he a learned novel or tattered page;
             be he devout in faith or drenched in doubt;
             be he a man replete with shame of sin:
No man (unless an empty man who flaps like cynic’s skin)
             who has watched the early sun come out
	     or heard the song of sparrows spared the cage:
No man in love with his daughters:  No man in love with his universe.


4/30/2019

Submitted for:  Let's Have an Argument
Sponsored by Kevin Shaw

Premium Member Quietude and Boom

I decorate a grotto for you, Mama
where orchids and holy images
embellish this special place and day,
that saintly icons guard you there
as if they beg me to be released
from years of guilty devotion…
Yet I polish their laced clothes;
then end the night waiting
for wind chimes to knell,’ Magnificat.’

Scenes from younger days resound,
while you, Mama, gift me with love and hate
flickering through my confused mind :
And sharpened bells ring in my ears;
the gong of your voice banging
across the hall... yet I still recall,
mouth so tender, droning lullabies
in the soft of window sills, ‘Magnificat’…
How can I reconcile quietude and boom,
when the little girl in me longs for your  timber
here beside this special place--
till holy statues listen to my own chimes
and finally,     understand this adoration.




I Cannot Believe I Wrote That Poetry
For Nina Parmenter
Written 8/1/2015    Re-post 12/5/2018

Premium Member Tissue Box

like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why they felt compelled to come 

dozens came with casseroles
a few with flowers, wads of tissues
tender words of helpless mutterings
many acts of generous offerings

don't get me wrong, I watched the suffering
expressed in words or acts of kindness
I watched it all, and felt the love
did not dismiss the warm compassion
returned it all, with pure compliance
a thankful heart, a swollen throat

I hugged these strangers at the door
to comfort them, who shed their tears
upon my shoulder, offered them
a place to share their sympathies
a place to spend their mercy, pure

                but, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it

protected from the very start, by
loving hands, her dad's and mine, 
we watched her grow, and let her go
she grew from the vine ....into a rose
but life composed a tragedy, with goals
beyond our reach...beyond belief
beyond our wildest dreams
and left her with a loss beyond control

like visitors from outer space, we watch
as others come, and others go
they blow into their tissue wads
and empty the boxes one by one
and cry with us,  and then they all go home...

do we cry........?  Oh no, not yet...
instead we smile a grateful smile
and thank them kindly for the while
and for the ways they share their love
but we can't cry into our own clenched wad
of tissue from the tissue box
she needs us to be strong, somehow
and so that is the way it is, we vow...to hold back all the tears for now


                for, this was my child who loved and lost
                impossible........I can't express it
      __________________________________________





4/12/13

Premium Member A Tribute To Daddy

You were the oak in our family tree,
With roots that were strong and true,
Holding on so tenaciously
No ill wind could topple you.
We nestled under your branches, Daddy,
In the shelter of your girth,
Until our own roots were established and
We survived by our own worth.

Daddy, only then did you waver
Only then did your roots release.  
God seeing how very tired you were
Took you to his home of peace.
Dear Daddy on this Father's Day
I am wondering if you knew
Just how much your daughter loved you
And that she's still missing you.

Crushed

Look past
the faded little girl    braids and bows 
in a       polaroid picture
buttery yellow skirt 
curtsying     a smile
frog prince 
imprisoned      in her palm
under a creamy pound cake     sun 
(her grandmother’s recipe
sugar and spice folded carefully
with love and guilt
into a    thick summer sky)

daisies    like polka dots
piecemeal    on her bonnet
seem to stare       down
her face        with jaundice eyes
slanted above    ensnaring weeds 
swirls of sorrow    linger
 in knee-high field
where flowers grew wild         like 
freedom once felt

Look closer   picture fading
She         is running
legs bent      shouting from the page
stockings          peeled off
lanky legs    running
through                     her pain
till her heart        detaches
from a barefoot soul  
She still feels    spiky burs      in her heels
drops of            blood  
 zigzag               numb
beyond the treeline
memories   meld 
love and loss 
euphoric rush    warm winds fuel
an urgency         her creation
until lightning strikes
her grief   rushing to catch up  

through crushed wildflowers
fragmented patterns
under paths        at her feet
tears flooded       her field overgrown
She remembers   to forget
                Her mother
       buried         under 
        a distant willow      

She was taught 
by her grandmother
to be composed     
poised      like other girls
wad up      unpleasant feelings
slip them into    a corner 
of the cedar chest
under layers 
of afghans and quilts     
she     laid them to rest
long ago      but
never stopped
 her fidgety legs         from weaving 
through        floral tapestries
of field and meadow
wild brush turned emerald green      
in mourning

Her daddy passed away
ten years ago    today
He was buried       with wildflowers
tucked softly 
in his     lapel           and praying hands
he always said       windswept blooms
reminded him        of his girls

If you look closely     at the picture
of that faded little girl        
you will see her running
     from the graves 
         as the wildflowers crush
              beneath her feet

Premium Member Visits from Heaven




                 Was it really you dad? Not merely just a dream,

                           Your wisdom pouring forth to me,

                                Oh dad, how real it seemed.
                 
                               You always knew so much dad,

                               I so respected you. When they

                                  Said that you had cancer,

                                    I thought it was untrue.


                               You were too strong to die dad,

                                You fought with all your might,

                                But Papa, how I long to dream 

                                       Again, of you tonight.

  
                                   Tell me daddy, that it's true,
                                
                                That dream I had of me and you,

                                Again, like old days, sitting there,

                              Those silver strands within your hair.

                              A crown of wisdom round your head

                          And wisdom's spoke, those words you said.


                               I know some dreams are only dreams,

                                    But dad, that seemed so real.

                                      A gift from heaven's angels,

                                      For my broken heart to heal.


                                 You were loved too much to die dad,

                                         And oh, I miss you so!

                                    So, visit me in dreams, Papa,

                                          Until my turn to go.

Carmen

Can a child ever forget, how deep a mother’s love abides

All those days since birth, till now I’m grown she guides

Remembering her smile, so tender, so warm as her embrace

More than soothes away my pain, my fear of failure and disgrace

Even in my dreams she comforts, her voice, her scent would stay

Never will her being mother stop, till when I’m old and gray.





26 March 2015
Contest : Acrostic on Mother's Day - 1st Place
Sponsor : TAMMY REAMS
© Kp Nunez  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Father's Legacy

You grew up going from place to place.
Folk thought you wouldn't amount to a thing.
You were a wander til you heard love calling.
Your life changed on that extraordinary day.
Because your wayward position in life was no more.
You taught me how to recognize true love,
You showed how much I was loved.
You taught me how to ride my first bike.
You showed me how to work hard. 
You showed me how to put love into what I did
You showed me how to be proud just being me.
You thought you didn't have purpose or a legacy,
Because you grew up in the foster system.
Boy were you wrong, everything I am is “You”
Many thought you were nothing but a screw up
Boy you proved them all wrong( including you).
Me and my kid was your purpose and legacy,
You were my daddy and an incredible man.


Dedicated to all the incredible fathers everywhere

Alexis Y.
1-4-19
© Alexis Y.  Create an image from this poem.

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