Best Parents Poems
When I hold your hand, happily you trek along
Because you trust me to know where I'm going.
Listening to my stories, you hold my sight intently
Being proud of me, you consider me all-knowing.
Whether I teach or not, you always learn from me
For innocently you believe, I know when I speak
Yet, I am just a trainee learning on the job
Crossing milestones with immeasurable doubt.
Trying to live life, you may emulate and idolize
Hoping you never find out, how unsure I was.
I stand out in a crowd as someone you rely on
For I've been there since the day you were born.
Molding your talents you grew into who you are
Illuminating my planetary life like a shining star.
For you my child, my flame blazes unperturbed
When I hold your hand, you revive my aging soul.
Father’s of sky blue
mother’s of deep hazel brown
a blend of the two
sunlight on dew in meadow
or moss clinging to the stone
© Harry J Horsman 2016
Their lives begin, that special day
Your hardest job, is on the way.
Walking and pacing, all night long
Knowing that one day, they’ll be strong.
Watching them crawl, then walk and run
Treasure each moment, share their fun.
They grow so fast, enjoy each day
For sometime soon, they’ll move away.
Years of school, sometimes they will drag
We’re filled with pride, we parents brag.
Teaching our kids, always be kind
Lasting friendships, many will find.
Do as I say, not as I do
We all have said, our parents too.
The truth comes out, don’t cheat or lie
Don’t try and skimp, to just get by.
Take the right path, we try to guide
Sometimes they don’t, we let it slide.
Knowing they must, find their own way
Life is tough, on track they must stay.
Bumps in the road, many will hit
We as parents, just have to sit.
Learn from mistakes, it takes its’ toll
Their independence, that’s our goal.
The hardest part, is yet to come
When high school years, are said and done.
We’ve done our jobs, as best we could
We must let go, or so we should.
Give them their wings, and let them fly
As we sit back, and often cry.
Turning the page, is hard to do
Wondering if, they listened to you.
Reach for the stars, follow your dreams
It takes time, forever it seems.
Your heart will break, can’t let it show
It’s so difficult, letting go.
When I got home from camp today,
My parents almost died.
They asked me how I got this way,
And here's what I replied:
"This little cast from heel to hip
Is nothing much at all.
Some broken shingles made me slip
From off the dining hall.
"The poison ivy's not so bad.
It missed my back and chest.
Of course, I guess I oughta add
Mosquitoes got the rest.
"I tried to eat some hick'ry nuts
And cracked a tooth or two.
And all these bruises, scabs, and cuts?
I haven't got a clue.
"I got the lump that's on my head
From diving in the lake.
I should have watched for rocks, instead
Of grabbing for the snake.
"That leaves this bandage on my chin
And these three finger sprains,
Along with lots of sunburned skin
And sniffles from the rains.
"And oh, I got a muscle cramp
And very nearly drowned.
It's some terrific summer camp,
The coolest one around."
I paint your beauty in my heart and mind
in swirling strokes of wind squalls and light;
the youthful lift of limbs of early spring,
with summer’s joyful red, with fall's surprise.
I paint you in wonder of winter’s white
through snow storm's chill and my loving eyes.
I paint you beyond the blue pain of the past
with the gray of fear the future hides.
Jealous of luring space and power of time,
yet, with all the hope, the joy, the ache
as seen in the strength of my trembling hand;
I’ll paint you again my child, mesmerized.
After: L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 8
Kim Patrice Nunez
17 January 2016
A bird is a wonder
flying in the air
hopping on the ground
or warbling a song
Pure entertainment all day long
A bird is a curiosity
cocking his head this way and that
sucking a worm from the ground
so juicy, so fat
An aerial and arboreal acrobat
A bird is a parent too
in the grand scheme of things
building a nest for babies
until they take wing
Gently nurturing, fiercely protecting
"A mother's love is made in heaven." Quote Written By Poet
She was a young and beautiful bride,
then her handsome husband died.
The fast car came out of nowhere,
there was nothing left but prayer.
Life was about to take her on a wild ride,
but she could not go and hide.
A precious baby girl was born,
she was told to be happy and do not mourn.
For now she is dressed in pink and is nameless,
lying in the hospital crib blameless.
Loving adopted parents would come,
and save her as she sucked her thumb.
Somethings can start out bad and end up good,
our new name is parenthood.
Thousands of gentle caresses, soft touch,
From the potter’s hands to properly guide
Tenuously stretching sides he might crush,
If too much pressure his fingers provide.
Young heart made of clay, forming on the wheel.
To guide your unfolding, our sacred charge.
Push we must, yet your own shape you reveal.
A careful balance, an impact so large.
Kiln’s searing flame awaits, the piece’s trial.
But before, time drying, forming in place.
Away from well meaning hands and anxious smiles.
Then ceremonial paint brushed on face.
Tempered by scorching waves of heat, the bowl
Gleams triumphant, a grail to hold the soul.
3/5/16
FICTIONAL EMOTIVE WRITE
Since I was a tiny baby I was brought up by my grandparents and had a very happy childhood. I knew that they were not my real parents but they gave me such love that I didn’t ask any questions for fear of upsetting them. Grandma’s eyes would mist over any time anyone mentioned my parents so I knew something bad had happened to them
Whispers in the hall
The child is too young to know
They passed so quickly
I left home at 20, married and moved to a small town about 50 miles from where I grew up. I was always in touch with my grandparents, but over time old age crept upon them and I recently cleared the family home when grandma passed away. I discovered yellowing newspaper cuttings, which told of how my parents had been killed in a horrific car crash, it also detailed their final resting place in the local cemetery.
Family secrets
Scrapbook of old photographs
My parents smiling
Dawn is breaking and dappled sunlight streams through the trees. A veil of grey swirling mist shrouds the cemetery. I pull my shawl closely around my shoulders and begin my search. Strands of ivy hang down from the towering yew trees, its dark green tendrils wrapped around the grey granite graves clinging so tightly as if it was trying to hold up the graves like a puppet on a string. The fallen gravestones remind me of decaying teeth with many gaps where stones had crumbled with age and neglect. I walk slowly, reading the names of those who now had eternal rest. Eventually I found their grave at plot 142, where a marble angel watches over them sleeping. I scrape off the thick lichen, which obscures their names. Tears fall and I hug the gravestone wishing I could embrace my parents for real.
I greet my parents
Stone cold grave gives me closure
Heartbroken child cries
09~26~16
Contest Overgrown With Vines Sponsored by Broken Wings
submitted to ''H'' Contest, New or Old Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Our parents chose to join a cult
Nobody asked us
We went along with what they chose
Too small to make a fuss
Indoctrinated,we believed
This life was the norm,
We were fed on 'comic books'
Taught to worship ****.
While still children we became
'Flirty Fish for God'
We wore bright make up
Wore bright clothes
Walked dark streets alone.
We searched for men and sold them 'love'
They paid with souls and money.
We took them to 'church' convinced that we'd
Fulfilled all Gods wishes.
In innocence we walked the streets
We knew not what we did
Our parents were so proud of us
We were Gods'good fishes
.
Now this sect has all but gone
What's become of us?
Are we your neighbours or your friend
Maybe someone on a bus!
Are we filling up the jails ?
Or selling sex for pennies?
Are we shooting up with drugs
To blot out all our memories?
Are we alcoholics,drowning out our sorrow,
Pity the poor 'Flirty Fish
Fulfilling someone elses' wish
For them no bright tomorrow.
Dear beloved
I close my eyes and whisper to the breeze
That wherever you are, you be in so much ease
And that eternal joy, and a good rest, you they give a kiss
Dear kids
Here I kneel
In the middle of the empty forest, accompanied only by bushes and trees
And I pray, that you get all big round juicy bliss to keep
Dear friend
I open my arm on the silent beach
And hope that the ocean accompany with wails of prayers for thee
In all my wish, of the body, heart, and mind, with smiles I call for you to heal
Dear siblings
Here I always pray, as for mother and father, so for thee
An auspicious fulfilments for your dreams
With many such happy years for you to see
Dear reader
I pray for you the best, as you read
And for you a share of luxuries and bliss
Coupled with sweet vanilla flavoured peace
There has to be another way
cause I fear staying will only break me quicker
I'll snap like a twig
therefore I'm consumed by my meds
Doctors think i'm crazy
Just cause i'm sad
A kid is supposed to be happy
Atleast that's what they keep telling me
my parents lose sleep cause I won't just pretend
Their so stuck being normal
that they never realized they made me this way
So they should stop alienating me
Cause genetics is genetics
I heard my mom was strung out on weed
before she even knew I was developing in her belly
Dad was a young Alchoholic
yet he doesn't understand why I get thirsty
Now i'm not tryna be like them so don't get me wrong
It's just that they try to cover it up like they were perfect
Cleaned their act up before I was old enough to understand
So now I take this pill
Doctors claim it will heal me
It'll destroy everything that's consuming me
Will it make my parents accept me?
Will it make them finally take some of the blame?
Will it make them tell me they love me?
I doubt it.
Our house is abuzz
With Me, Bella and Jess
And Mummy is all delight
“Dad’s coming home tonight! “
The Cake has been made
The table has been laid
Candles are alight
Dad will be home tonight!
Mum’s wearing polka dots
Dress, Dad had bought
She looks pretty, so bright!
Dad will be home tonight.
Jess was only two
When dad had to go
He still remembers him, right?
Can’t wait for Dad tonight!
Bella’s dream is a soprano
And so deft with the piano
She will make it a musical nite
When daddy’s home tonight!!
But me? I am a bit too shy
So I did this song on the sly
Plan to place it under his desk-light
Hope Dad will read it tonight!
Dad may have stories from afar
Of his travels and the war
Tales of nobility and military might
At the dinner table tonight.
Just imagine him at the door
Big smile, Open arms for us four
His loving grasp will be tight
When he comes home tonight.
There is a knock on the door!
We all cheer and roar!!
Mum is there on a flight,
Jess lisps, “is it already tonight?”
Four soldiers stand at our gates,
They must be his work mates,
Mum’s voice is soft in fright
“Is he coming home tonight?”
Voices drown as the men depart
Mum is back, her hand on heart
Slowly her legs yield to her weight
“Daddy won’t be coming home tonight!”
Coach Dad
It is a magic time when a child ventures
Into the world, spreading wings,
Beginning the oft painful process
of moving from the nest to the sky.
And it is a fragile time, where first experiences
Weigh heavily on shaping the direction
In which young life begins to move
And often whether it moves at all
It is a trying time, of fear and nervousness
One little step out on their own
The start of something bold and beautiful
The molding of a young child's eye
Much is made of parents and peers,
Oft unaddressed is the role of others
Teachers and coaches, a collective entity
Not dissimilar from fathers and mothers
The torch of responsibility being passed
If only for a brief moment
No more clinging to the safety and comfort
of what is already a norm and known
Encouragement or unkind words
So often a matter of chance and moods
Have mighty impacts on growing hearts
Precious opportunities to help a growing life
Young minds and hearts right on the surface
We remember our coaches, good and bad
Caring or not, patience or none,
The struggles, thin times and thick
A team of seven year olds
Is not unlike a litter of unruly puppies
How will they ever pay attention?
Give them a ball, a glove, and a game!
Pride, courage, athleticism, self-confidence
All showcased for the world to see
Taking turns and building bonds
Grasping much more than a newfound skill
If you can stand to be measured,
and fail by that measure, even repeatedly
But come back from it, you'll forever have
One more vital skill in life’s toolbox
One youngster will not win the game alone
But the team can, and its joy
Is multiplied many times over.
All these things and more can be taught.
Whether it be on the field or off
Teamwork, respect and camaraderie
Will forever be entrenched in the mind
Of a well instructed boy or girl
5/4/16
© Tom Quigley and Tim Smith
You are a princess in my heart,
and I care for you so much.
I love the fondness in your eyes,
and your tender little touch.
I looked at you when you were born,
and knew then straight away,
that I would be fore ever here
to watch you grow and play.
You bring to me a heart of joy,
and memories so great,
and a powerful sense of fatherhood
that no one can debate.
I watch you sleep and dream of things
that I can only wonder.
That innocent look upon your face
just makes my heart grow fonder.
I see you run and jump and shout
and calling out my name.
No love that I have ever known
could ever feel the same.
No suffering or tragedy
nor deeply seated pain
could ever over shadow
the bond that we retain.
And so my little princess
before you go to sleep,
Remember I am your daddy,
and I am yours to keep.
(For Victoria from Dad)