Best Fatherdad Poems
The last time I took Pop to the big lake, the wind was so strong,
it nearly blew his wheelchair over, I knew just where to stop...
at the top of the hill, the windiest place!
I left him alone, he just looked out on the lake unblinking,
rewinding moments, that made him who he was.
In days past.....
He told me the story of his best friend in high-school, who wanted
Dad to go along with him duck-hunting on that sunny, warm morning in fall...
1940, Dad had promised my Mom (not yet married!) he would go with her
on a picnic in the bluffs along the Mississippi.... so he declined.
From sunshine and 70... to freezing white-out conditions up and down the river,
many lives were lost that day, including my Pop's best friend....
the Great Armistice Day Storm lived on in Pop's heart...
Dad went to his friend's funeral.
Or the time.....
Dad took my Grandpa (Mom's Dad) on the first vacation he had
ever been on! Grandpa worked until he died...... the Company
he worked for had tricked him, letting him work 29yrs. 11 months,
and 28 days, then firing him two days before his pension would kick-in.
Pop took him fishin' for the first time in his life! bought him a straw fishin' hat too!
Dad kept baitin' his hook and Grandpa caught 6-fish before Dad could cast a line!....
Pop called him 6-fish Bumford after that! and us kids weren't allowed to touch
Grandpa's straw-hat from that fishin' trip..... Dad kept it on a hook in his work-room
in the basement, with the words "Six Fish Bumford...My Best Friend"
scrawled under it on the wall (I still have it)
In a while, I knew it was time to bring him back......he had finished
looking out on his life....
.......he was ready to go
Please dad,
please don't cry,
it's selfish for me to say,
cause dad you gave me breath,
the breath I breath today.
A strong man,
always the family fed,
dad you gave us so much more
than our want and our
daily bread.
Dad you cry, I know,
for youth you know demised
but dad to me, you'll always be
the geordie who worked the tyne.
The geordie boy
who held respect
for his decent ways
and the men he led.
Please dad,
please don't cry,
your still the man
that led his men
and I can't bear to watch you die.
I want to share a few,
Fond memories of my dad,
With an experience or two,
Of the times together we had.
He was a carpenter by trade,
Just like Jesus used to be,
But the full time job with mom he made,
Was taking care of me.
I remember things we did together,
When I was five years old,
My first fishing trip, buying my first heifer,
And letting me ride a steer in a rodeo.
Fixing a racecar up together was fun,
It was for me to race someday,
Even though it was work that was done,
It seemed more like play.
It was in April of 2001,
When my dad helped me find a steer,
I named him Blazer and he was the one,
That I thought would bring a winning year.
I looked forward to the pick up day to be,
When my dad would be breaking in the steer,
And it would be just dad and me,
Because my mom, of that, she had a fear.
Before he had a chance to break her in,
He had a heart attack and had to rest,
He told me that I’d have to step in,
And just try to do my best.
I was a little worried and not so sure,
If I could even really do this stuff,
And since it had always been my dad before,
I waited for my dad to guide me when he had strength enough.
My dad wanted to help me more but he was too sick,
So I tried even harder this time around,
And Blazer sure didn’t like the show stick,
But I finally got him to walk with me on the ground.
And the time came that I knew then,
Blazer would be ready for the Auction show,
But my dad had another heart attack again,
And I realized there was life lesson for me to know.
The lesson that I have learned here,
Is that sometimes we really do,
Take for granted our family will always be there,
But you never know when they won’t be able to help you.
As the brightest star in the sky,
Reminds me of Nana, my dad’s mother,
There is now another bright star near by,
For dad and the love we shared with each other.
Written for Dustin 5/27/2003
Florence McMillian (Flo)
More than two years it be since me old dad had to fly. I miss him you know, he was
my best friend. I miss the twinkle in his Scottish,Irish,American eyes, a kind and
caring Gent was he. Times there are when I sit on the porch and talk to him, like he
was there next to me. If anyone was to hear they'd think a loony man I be, guess I
wouldn't disagree. At the the age of three orphaned was he, placed in the
orphanage with two of his four brothers. Cruel treatment he did receive, still had the
scars to witness the abuse they dealt him, undeserved though it be. Never did
break him, stubborn he was, passed down by his anstery, can say the same for me.
Great depression was on, none could afford another mouth to feed. At the age of
fourteen put out on the street , all because he refused to stay with a farmer who
wouldn't let him finish school. All the man wanted was for dad to be his tool. A little
help from a friend and some kindly Gents, a sleeping room he did get. Worked three
jobs finished high school, I told you stubborn he be. Old Uncle Sam drafted him then,
a soldier they needed him to be. Only five nine one hundred thirty five he was
soakin wet. Balck hair, hazel eyes, a fine looking lad was he. Thirty cal. machine
gunner he was assigned, to everyone's surprise. Little man was he, but the heart of
a lion he did have. From the shores of France to Berlin he did fight. Bronze star for
valor, Holocaust memorial award, battle for Atlantic,European theater,Seinne river
crossing, Rhine river crossing, battle of the buldge, army of occupation, all these
medals he did receive. I know if they'd asked him do you want to fight a war? No
thanks he would have said, for a peaceful man I be. The day they placed him in the
ground, amist his World War II brothers, the sky was crying, and so was I. Taps for
him they did blow, gun salute. Folded the flag and gave it to my mom, in her eyes I
could see that her world had come to an end. Such pain in my heart, I just wanted to and flee. Instead I stubbornly stood there, to honor the memory of my dad.
In Loving memory of my dad: W. Jack Ross : 1924-2009: I still miss him.
Dad was puttering around today
Playing with me
God we haven’t played in years
You know, Dad’s eighty now
I remember how he looked in photos at twenty
I remember the twinkle in his eyes
at my sons two year old birthday party.
We played computer, you see Dad it can do this LOOK
LOOK here it does this too!
I did so like kissing the top of his bald head.
So good to see that old comb-over long gone now
So good to smell the MY Dad smell of clean clothes and soap.
Your files need to be organized Dad.
You have them all glommed up in with the general documents files.
Know wonder you can’t find them, all the love poems to his dear heart Ruth.
I wonder if he remembers my wedding day.
He was so handsome in his tux that day.
I remember his smile then as he watched me
walk the white carpet in the garden by the mill pond.
Joy, now is that any name to call a dog [oops SHE doesn’t know she’s a dog!]
The dust mop of a pooch barked indignantly as, I took her Daddies attention from
her.
Had a dog once, Babe was her name, she was a huge sheepdog, we lost
our Babe when I lost my Dad for a long time, BUT he's been back along while too
now
Dad was sharing with me and I so loved it. Me, of course being his first girl,
sharing with me, his love and happiness with his last girl OUR Ruth.
Happy birthday dad
I know that with our Lord in heaven your ok
and sorry that I carnt call or see you today
although that you have gone
our Love and your memory always lives on
happy birthday dad
you are sadly missed but never forgotten.
with all my love your little dido and your grandchildren
dont worry dad we safe now we carnt be hurt no more
God bless xxxxxx R.I.P.
your life right now has everything
the only thing missing is a wedding ring
remember when aunt Louis said marriage is best
i'm kinda scared is what you confessed
she said it's scary at first but give it time
making the first move is not a crime
you know she means everything to you
you said my girls mean alot to me to
she said that's all the more to marry her
then you said how can you be so sure
as much as they need you
they need a mother to
so man up brother and say i do
we've had this conversation before it's nothing new
and just because your my sister doesn't mean i have to listen to you
don't listen to me than you never do
but the decision you make now
later on is going to haunt you
P.S. this poem is telling the story of my foster dad talking to his sister who is trying to
convince my foster dad to get merried to his girlfriend
DAD…
my only regret
Today is a day that I am full of regret
As I fight an old cliché,
The many things I should have said,
I went without saying but I love
You dad
As a young girl you have influenced
my life, And loved me if I was
moody or happy to be your
son’s wife
Miles have separated me and my
birth father So, Like it or not………
yea, I’m a Fallo girl
Leading by example as I quietly took notes,
the quality in the man is what I will cherish
the most
Well, with my eyes wide open dad
I hope you can see I’m not waiting
so long to tell mom how much
she means
It is with all of my love that I am sad
to see you go, I will miss you forever
and for me please kiss
aunt Lowi’s nose.
I never got to meet my Dad, alone with my questions feeling bad.
There are some things a mother can't do, there is just no way to make one parent two.
I remember being ashamed at times, friends fishing with there dads but I'm not with mine.
Why was this life given to me, without my Dad what kind of man would I be.
I wonder who he is have I seen him on the street, how old will I be when me and Dad meet.
Is he my banker or maybe a cop, I will always want to know and that will never stop.
What do I say when my son starts to ask, coming up with an answer will be quite a task.
Dose not having him make me less of a man, surely you know this wasn't the plan.
Do I keep this a secrete never to tell, keeping this in will really be hell.
Now I try to be super dad, never letting anyone see me sad.
I hope one day we can reunite, me with my Father that will be a sight.
I remember many years ago, when I
was just a lad,
My biggest hero in my life, happened
to be my dad.
I grew up with no siblings, in a
happy home,
And daily as a child, I'd write a story
and a poem.
I'd discuss how my day went and the
things that I had done,
And put words to my feelings, be it
happy, sad or fun.
I'd keep them in a binder, tucked
underneath my bed,
Well hidden from intruders, near
where I'd rest my head.
Many years later, as a teen, my
parents separate.
They tell me dads moving to another
state.
He decided to leave his family and
work on his career,
Things hadn't been so good at home
for well over a year.
I hold in the tears, run upstairs and
begin to write.
About the terrible news I got, that
late school night.
I rip out my binders, and sit quickly
in my chair.
I write "why do I do this, no one
seems to care".
I grab all my diaries, from my
hidden stash,
throw them in a garbage bag and
take them out for trash.
For many years I never took out a
paper and pen,
I promised myself this day I would
never write again.
I visit my dad often, til life gets in
the way,
And visits turn to phone calls as we
run outta things to say.
He would say that he loved me, I'd
say I loved him too.
But our conversations remained
small, we were never really true.
I get the dreaded phone call in
february '11,
God had come to take my dad and
bring him up to heaven.
I go through my dads stuff, and
what defined his life,
Pictures of dead relatives, my family,
his ex wife.
I miss the times we had, even our
silent talks,
Hidden in his closet, I pull out a big
box.
When I move the box, I can't
believe my eyes,
My family runs in the room, when
they hear my sobbing cries.
The writings I had thrown out so
many years before.
Were neatly piled behind the box, on
the closet floor.
I read through the pages, memories
flood my mind,
My life as a child so neatly defined.
I make it to the last page, I find
written in blue, under "No one seems
to care"
My Daddy wrote "I do"
My dad is skinny,
or he used to be.
Now he has
a pot belly.
My dad is fast,
or he used to be.
Now he trails
just behind me.
My dad is tall,
or he used to be.
Now he is only
as tall as me.
My dad is handsome,
or he used to be.
Now his face
is all wrinkly.
Despite all of this,
my dad, to me,
is the best dad
a dad could be.
Written by Ryley Booth 14 years old
THIS POEM AND EVERY POEM I WRITE AND EVERYTHING I DO IS INSPIRED BY MY ONE
MAN MY HERO MY DAD
H ate you love you
E ven in the darkest of all days you come thru with light
C ome on dad you know I love you
T ogether we stand and our love for each other will never fall
O n father’s day I didn’t really got you anything
R eading your face after my football games makes me feel fortunate to have you
T ogether we are a hell of a team
O ver every one you are my favorite
R age between us there always will be
R evange for something never will happen
E verything I know you thought me
S o dad I want you to know that you’re my hero
I LOVE YOU DAD
Dad is glad to be in Heaven.
Someday I will join him there.
He taught me through Jesus to love my brethren.
I'm thankful he took the time to share his
Wisdom, his good looks, his time, his drive.
His Roy who taught me to drive my car.
I have many memories marked by scars.
I was Tom Boy, a Boy Scout Girl Ranger.
Never turned my back on a stranger.
Cows in a pasture, pasturized milk.
Clothes of cotten, worms make silk.
I drove my Dad crazy, now crazy I am.
I like daisies, spagetti and Spam.
Steaks and chicken on the grill.
Whittle a wood. Awhile be I will.
If I could write a book, I would.
I'll do what Dad never did. Write
It all down, color pictures, white
Paper. Paper dolls, antique dolls.
Malls full of books, cook books.
Dirty looks sometimes. I just rhyme.
I have the time, too much time on my
Tiny hands. Rubber bands in my hair.
Braids and pony tails. Tales to share.
So in conclusion, I'm no longer confused.
I use my talents and work harder and
Harder to be better. Knit a sweater.
Sew a seam. Sew on a button. Mutton
Is not for me, but rice is good food.
When it rains I have jackets with hood.
So rain today. I need to smell the air.
All is war, all is fair in war and love.
I'll keep on with the help of God's love.
I went and saw my Dad today
I felt I had a lot to say
I love to stop and visit there
Such love and kindness in the air
We talked about the children and
I mentioned how they've grown
I spoke about my Mother and
how she hates to be alone
I cried and said "Oh Dad I'm scared"
For I'm alone now to
Oh little one don't be afraid
I'll always be with you
I felt his warmth come over me
at last my heart was still
He took away all sense of doubt
and took away the chill
As in his life he settled me
He always had that knack
If I could have one wish today
I'd bring my Father back...
Mom, sisters,brothers is all we had.
We all grew up without our dad.
He left us all when I was just three.
There was no dad for us to see.
Life was hard but we learned to share.
Because our dad was never there.
Our life was filled with heartache and pain.
But I will say one thing he left us his name.
Everyone say's it's time to forgive and let it go.
What a life with a dad would be like I'll never know.
Somethings were good somethings were bad.
It might have been great if we've had our dad.
Teresa Skyles