I remember as I child
eyeing the Christmas
tree, all lit and broadcasting.
Early-on I realized that Father
was Santa. Mother sensed it
when they married. Father, let go of his
well defined ego, embraced the principal
to secure the family, protect and
serve selflessly onto death.
Flavor guzzles an atmosphere
of cinnamon-dusted coffee.
Don’t worry there is plenty here,
a mug for you and one for me.
Sip slow but I will drink quickly
lest it vanish without a taste.
Spicy sticks languish dutifully
as our buzz is expertly laced.
where the branches go
return to the voices
that bitter inner verse
dressed in birds
I know now those roots
I know now where lovers die
Who knows where the branches go
to song to heart to some cruel universe
where no life turns, no beast pretends
a cage of mothers – a cry of death
Branches sway – Branches night
swing off into a color of sticks or sound
she awaits my bird my tiny wing
from our ancestry of none our null dream
to lie awake to die apart
oh soundless fury pray for me
I've done none, I've none
but the wind to carry me under
carry me away
My Dad,
He's a guy.
I found out he has a Mum too.
She said he was little like me once!
Being a man,
Is it something I choose?
It looks tiring.
My Dad,
He has these kind eyes,
He let's me have a go, first...
Then he steps in as a guide.
He knows that I watch him...
I think that sometimes that stresses him out.
He tries to be the best for me.
The very best that he can...
He does so well,
I want to shout:
"I love you Dad! I love you Dad"
He's so more than enough
His heart is sooo big,
He doesn't need to act tough.
He keeps us safe and warm,
And he hugs us tight...
It feels really special,
When my Dad says goodnight.
I am small, just for now.
One day I'll be like my Dad, but like me.
He's everything in one,
The best friend I ever had.
You'll see!
Father was born in 1905,
On one Spring day in April.
One day in the month of May,
My dear father became ill,
and there was no curing pill.
I was 13 when my father died.
1963 was the year of his demise.
For 58 years he not only survived,
But was industrious and learned to thrive.
Occasionally, I'd hear daddy say,
"I'm going out west where eagles
Build their nests". In reality, daddy
Never resided west of the Mississippi.
Too young for World War One;
And too old for World War Two.
His life was not a long marathon,
But he was strong through and through.
Daddy was a farmer and auterprinur.
I heard from older souls who knew him.
I heard stories that made me proud of him.
Daddy was 58; died in 1963, 63 years ago.
Does anyone still buy, for dad,
Some cufflinks on this day?
It’s what I sometimes bought for mine
When shirts were made that way.
It had to be a local store
Which carried varied clothes,
Including the accessories;
That’s how the mem’ry goes.
My dad’s been gone for many years,
Those cufflinks likely tossed.
His place within my heart, though,
Hasn’t ever gotten lost.
I wish a Happy Fathers’ Day
To all who fit the bill
And hope, with cufflinks or without,
Somebody’s heart you’ll fill.
He stands beside his child
the way a tree stands beside its shadow~
not owning it,
not shaping it,
but offering a place to grow
in the shelter of his presence.
The boy leans in,
trust quiet as breath,
as if he already knows
that the world is easier to face
when a father’s steadiness
is close enough to touch.
There is no need for words.
Love moves in the small distances~
the space between two hands,
the tilt of a shoulder,
the soft gravity that pulls
one life toward another.
On Father's Day
what matters most
is not the weight of legacy
or the echo of a family name,
but the simple truth
that a child stands taller~
when a father stands near.
The garden glows with that soft,
van Gogh kind of morning~
light shimmering on the edges of things,
as if the world is holding its breath
for a small miracle.
A child lifts one foot,
then the other,
arms reaching forward
like a tiny pilgrim
crossing the distance
between fear and trust.
The father kneels,
hands open, steady,
a harbor waiting
for the smallest ship
ever to brave the sea of grass.
Behind them,
the mother watches~
her posture half-prayer,
half-release~
knowing this is how
letting go begins.
And the child,
caught in that golden hush,
takes the step that changes everything~
a step toward the future,
toward the father’s warmth,
toward the life that will unfold
one footfall at a time.
And in this quiet turning of the world,
paint becomes life~
a small child stepping into tomorrow,
a father opening his arms to meet it,
their lives unfolding in soft, bright increments~
each step a promise that love
moves us farther than fear ever could.
I thank my father
for his service in the Corp and
respect him fully
he sacrificed
coming home no warm welcome
Vietnam Marine
Being a dad
Becoming a father
Cherishing their children’s events and accomplishments
Providing discipline
A voice with advice
Happy and sad moments of time
Responsibility most high
Sometimes a father is like a feather
Cushing from the falls and disappointments
Center of attention
Proud, Admiring and establishing dad
Seeing their offspring growing from kid to adult
Children taking on the legacy of the father’s name
Always heartfelt
A father’s job carried out
Happy to say
Happy Father’s Day
The plumber man fell asleep
with ash on his lips, losing
track of his cerebral train
John Boy with his stained new teeth
and guns of oil on his stone hands
Paining tires, chainsaws, the
garage ceiling
seasoning the turning of a leaf
John Boy's hounds piss on the porch
warping wood with smoke and sulfur
Is shooting blind since the judge took
his gun from his holster
John Boy stopped drinking a little too late
his brain full of holes, just like
a tree trunk to a woodpecker's peck
As he drunkenly recants the psalm
'I get no respect!'
Often times referred to as the head of the house,
We have no say unless the boss has her say first.
Yet in this gentle dance of love and order,
A father stands with steady, patient grace.
Role model for growing successors,
He walks the path so they may follow true.
A source of diffused wisdom with the Lord's help,
He offers guidance born of faith and trial.
Daughter's favorite person,
Whose arms bring comfort, whose words bring light.
Son's favorite emulator,
Whose steps they watch and seek to match with might.
Placed by God as the nucleus of the family,
He holds the center with humble, quiet power.
Through laughter shared and burdens gently borne,
He reflects the Father's endless, steadfast love.
On this day we honor you, dear fathers near and far,
For every sacrifice made in silence,
For every prayer whispered in the dark,
For every lesson wrapped in daily care.
May the Lord who placed you in this sacred role
Fill your heart with peace and joy untold.
For in your strength, we see His hand at work,
A blessing to your home, a gift to this world.
Happy Father's Day.
There is an anchor with your presence
That moored and stayed my course.
Your life became my essence
That never yields remorse.
Dad, I know you’re near me
And still walk with me today.
In simple tasks, you re-appear
Like shining shoes or cutting grass.
In times like these, I know you’re near
Here and now, not just the past.
Dad, I know you’re near me
And still walk with me today.
When familiar smells, fill the kitchen
I remember foods you loved.
So many virtues you were rich in
And your character, beloved.
Dad, I know you’re near me
And still walk with me today.
My many mannerisms show
That I am more than just your son.
I am part of you where ere I go
For the two of us, are one.
Dad, I know you’re near me
And still walk with me today.
I pray my son will carry on
The depth of traits from you.
May our legacy live on
And our loving carry through.
Dad, I know you’re near me
And still walk with me today.
Fathers,
You learn from them,
For better or for worse.
How to be, or not to be,a husband.
How to be or not to be a parent when it's
your turn.
There are no books, holy or otherwise.
And religion is all but useless,
It has no moral compass
Holy images on walls,stautes,moving or mute
Never,kept a mother or wife safe in her home.
Respect is basic instinct
One either has,or, hasn't got.
' He'll be on his own yet,'
My mother often exclaimed.
When there was nothing else left to say.
And true to her word;he died alone.
The dark cloud lifted,the light broke through.
The voilens played
The mad lady sang.
And I danced around the grave.
Four days ago, my youngest turned 45.
Presently, we live some 500 miles apart,
But have great conversations by phone.
Several months ago, he said, "Pop, how
Does it feel to be 76"? My reply went
Something like this:
I can see and hear very well. I feel good,
And my sleep is great. My memory is a
Cut above. I've lost a few, but my teeth
Are real. My weight is in good order,
And I'm a firm believer in vitamins.
I have had a pacemaker for my heart
Since 2015. I have more than enough
Energy. Each day, I take a heart pill,
An aspirin, multiple vitamins, and extra
Vitamin C.
And lastly, I said to my son who calls me
Pop, "I can walk a lot but please don't
Make me run."
Fathers Day Categories
Read wonderful fathers day poetry on the following sub-topics:
child, christian, cute, daughter, funny, happy, inspirational, spiritual, son
and more.
Definition | What is Fathers Day in Poetry?
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