Father Family Poems | Examples
These Father Family poems are examples of Family poems about Father. These are the best examples of Family Father poems written by international poets.
Upon my father's demise,
Something inside of me died.
It took years to realize,
As that something was in disguise.
It fought hard to remain on the inside,
But it was mine, not his, to decide;
To decide that it would no longer hide.
A younger sister exposed it; not I.
In 1963, it shut down inside of me.
In 2003, my sister's comment set me free.
In 1963, when he passed away in May,
There was nothing of him I had to say.
Until 2003, subconsciously, it stayed that way.
But at a family reunion, it was forced to exit,
Revealing another view. And I was introduced
By a younger sister to a father I never knew.
She noticed her son flinched at her touch
Mommy, why does Daddy yell so much?
Your father works hard for us, and his days are long
But he yells all the time – what did I do wrong?
We need to try hard not to make him mad today
Okay, Mommy, I'll try really, really hard, and I’ll pray
Beyond the window, the radiant holly has withered.
The weary evening is losing its face;
I slice it into thin slivers like Mom’s cake—
so it might last a little longer.
When, as a boy in springtime, I pruned the trees
in silence alongside my father, a startled little owl flew out
through the skylight near the chimney.
A wistful ache still lingers in my heart.
The Visitor
He pushed at the open door
no sound
just darkness inside.
Dust filtered his
nostrils,
a mustiness of lost years
inhabited his senses.
A loose floorboard
creaked in the stairwell,
the aroma
of her Chanel provoked memories
of his
living hell.
A tear of self-pity congealed
in the dirt at his feet
He switched on the light
"Hello son
I knew you'd be back;
He's gone..."
Father Wally
Mother Molly
Daughter Polly
Sister Holly
Play Dolly
Son Solly
Dog Collie
Rain Brolly
Shopping Trolley
Mistaken Folly
Jeshua Holy
Atheist Unholy
Good morning son.
There has never been a day like this day.
May you face it gladly, come what may
We mortals make many things from clay,
But only God Almighty can make a day;
The same God who made the mana.
So, my dear son.
Let the sunlight shine upon your soul,
As the wind of God blows away those
Dark and dreary clouds of grey.
Love you,
Dad
Co-leader keeping a family strong;
Hopes, dreams, and goals he helps nurture along.
Wise guidance coupled with a firm handshake;
Sharing advice about which paths to take.
A dad is all of this and much more, too;
Helps son(s), daughter(s) find what they want to do.
From son’s crib time to her walk down the aisle;
A father’s presence is there all the while.
Whether shoulder rides or trying out sports;
A father takes on roles of many sorts.
A servant-leader living as he should;
He helps his family and neighborhood.
Through life skills he helps others self-direct;
Showing them love, honor, and self-respect.
Bringing out the best in those he reaches;
Through patience, love, and the things he teaches.
With understanding
husband learns to eat cold food
while baby nurses
young mother learns
by advice and google search
to soothe her newborn
beginning of birth
mother's milk supplies
babies needs are met
simplicity of bond between father, mother and child
A man most loved and hated
For life you cared for after being berated
A man of honor or whatever
Teaching, telling you things with valor
or surrender
Hide and seek you grow and forget
Every tear you shed and regret
Relief in your sorrows
Forging a mark in you that follows
On special occasions you missed the same
man
Rejoicing or mourning alone
like a sandman
Left under the Sun that churns
In your body that warms and spurns
Feels like you're a hero or "Super"
when guided
Every step you take, you breathe
as molded and guarded!
My family, not grand but warm and bright,
Bathed in faith, trust, love and long lasting light
With my spouse the linchpin, the centre stage,
A shining grand-daughter, eight years of age,
The apple of eye of the family,
A daughter-in-law, teaching happily,
Elder son dipped in programming passion,
A young one, with management attraction,
With all under my soft supervision,
Making four walls a home free from tension.
Like a garden is my family - mostly sisters,
for I and they grew up without our father.
The oldest, I’m September’s aster,
gathering words like rain as in wind’s rhythm I sway.
After me is Jen, a gracious geranium, abloom with generosity.
Third in line is charming Mel, a marigold smiling in the sun.
Fourth is Dori, a hardy diligent daylily enduring many a storm.
Last is Thea. A delicate Mimosa, she gives and requires tenderness.
At garden’s center is our mother, our ever-loving spiritual rose.
Surrounding us all are beautiful friends, our sister flowers.
She was there
waiting
with the child;
she was, each day.
He didn’t know;
in isolation.
He had killed
paid the price
now they do.
In hues of blue, a bracelet crafted
For the father, strong and true
Threads of cobalt, woven tight
A symbol of love, a guiding light
In crimson red, another strand
For the mother, with warmth so grand
Passion and care, intertwined gracefully
An everlasting bond, unconditionally
And in royal purple, a third to see
For the child, innocent and full of glee
The blending of hues, a family's embrace
Bound together, in love and grace
Each color tells a story untold
Of a family's bond, strong and bold
A bracelet of blue, red, and purple unite
In love and connection, forever bright.
Say It Isn't So
Hearts on sleeves embrace the day,
Loving you more than words can say,
The deeper the love,
the deeper the hurt,
please say it isn't so.
Hurt in dreams before wake is real,
Hurting more in the great reveal,
Lord somehow let me not feel,
Please say it isn't so.
Father I know you know this pain,
When the kiss of love hurts you again,
Love grown cold bring tears of shame,
Harder to love me than let me go,
When comes the moment of the betray,
Words spoken in darkness,
revealed in the day,
Only God is my help, nothing more to say,
I just pray... say it isn't so.
“He’s the black sheep of our family,”
Said Father speaking of his son
Before him to the Watkins man
Who no doubt forgot it
Before his next customer.
Father liked the line
Repeated it to his son’s favorite uncle,
His mother and a few friends.
Their laughter stung.
Still none seemed to remember.
Father got bored—dropped the line.
Twenty years later denied
He’d said it.
The son, poor fellow, never forgot—
Told me the story as he expired.