Most Commented Family Poems (499)

Daddy come home, theres no need to fight
Please read me my story, and turn off my light
I dont like it this way, and need help with my toys
I want you to come home, and make friends with them boys

I made you a picture, and my hair is getting longer
Mummy keeps crying, sadness keeps getting stronger
My new shoes come today, im all ready for school
I wish you could take me, but I know there your rules

Daddy come home please, daddy come home
I cry when you leave me, here all alone
I see all the news, and think about you
Dont know what we'll do, if they take you to

Daddy I love you, daddy please come back home
I dont want you fighting, in this nasty war zone
I woke in the night again, touching your band
Daddy come home please, and dont let go of my hand

As I enter the afternoon of life,
I often pause to pay tribute to and to relish special memories…


Kayaking on a gentle African river with my 3-year old daughter,
Reliving the wonder, and awe in her eyes,
Reliving her keen sense of alertness and adventure lighting up her innocent angelic face…
Memories…


Reliving my ten-year old daughter’s first contact lenses,
Witnessing her intent fervency in the eye specialist’s waiting room,
An eager smile dancing on her lips,
A new adventure is about to begin,
And endless love just pouring out of my heart for my little girl…
Memories…


Feeding pigeons in London with my beautiful young wife and only four daughters at the time, two more were destined, two strapped to my wrists and two strapped to hers,
Magical moments, shared intimately with the one you love and with the unfathomably delightful fruits of our love, four round faces, this time up in arms at the indignity of being leashed to parents’ wrists,
But the pigeons slowly thaw the ice and heavy little hearts are soon cavorting around doing air-acrobatics with feathered friends…
Memories…

Collecting sunflowers on a soft Sunday afternoon in a rural African town with the woman soon to be my bride, marveling still that I heard the enchanting ‘yes’ to my question, thus sparing me from petrification of heart,
Proudly watching her lithesome body and nimble fingers plucking sunflowers, dozens and dozens of them, they were splashed everywhere that Tuesday at our wedding, in celebration of the joint life we were about to begin, with their big, open, yellow smiles…
Wow! What a wonderful woman she was,
I still love her deeply, as she smiles at us from her new home, in a dimension unknown to us, but no less real,
Her smiling face renewed again and full of twinkle, as if to say to the cruel cancer that prematurely took her from us:-
“… you did not destroy, you merely raised our consciousness…”
I love you, my heartthrob,
And I miss you soo…
Memories…

My prayer today for parents true,
Decent people to their core,
Resting 'neath a shady yew,
Safe with God, their worries o'er.
Sad verses penned, with gulping tears,
A poignant anniversary,
How swiftly pass the ebbing years,
Since they became a memory.
Dad was strict, poor behaviour banned,
While Mam was kind, I reminisc,
Imprinted on my rear, the palm of his hand,
Embedded on my cheek, her gentle kiss.
They raised us right, all brothers three,
Tight rules and respect abounded there,
Each night we said.."The Rosary"
Kneeling beside a kitchen chair.
Times were hard, but they'd seen worse,
Poverty ne'er our lives impede,
. Love was abundant, while money scarce,
Though financially poor, we were wealthy indeed.
A mark of respect, a word of thanks,
They prepared us well for future life,
Those welcome hugs, and well deserved spanks,
A magical cure for sibling strife.
Fond thoughts today of good instilled,
Such dedication of parents strong,
A celebration of lives fulfilled,
Forever in their shadow, we journey on.
We feel them now, their presence still,
Behind the stars, quietly peeping,
Alive in memory, and always will,
They have not died, just softly sleeping.
The trials of life they fought and won,
We're grateful now eternally,
For all the blessings that first begun,
In our simple Irish family !

As we sit here having
Hot coco
wrapping gifts
Memories flll my head
Trimming the tree just us three
Your faces filled with with glee
You were so worried about santas cookie
You wound dance around and sing
I think you knew every Christmas carol
Every year I would ask you
To hang the candy cane
However it never made it to the tree
This happened every year
Today I asked you to hang the candy cane on the tree
Thinking it will make it to the tree
I search and search the tree I couldnt find the candy cane
I saw you out of the corner of my eye laughing at me
I was so pleased a tradition that will always be
It my be small to you
It means everything to me!

Carved utilitarian shape, varnished with age,
worn, brown wooden spool once a tree, living,
now reduced to only inches - three.
Red fibers wrapped tightly ‘round,
and, in the wrapping to keep together,
both lights and shadows appear,
as fiber twists against fiber to give strength
yielding a texture of roughness
that belies the silky threads.
As they attempt to unravel themselves,
unbound, the thick fibers soften and flow
off the spool in a pool of crimson,
with more than a trace of blue.

Amy picks up the ancient spool of thread
given to her by her mother.
It had once been her grandmother’s, too -
a lifeline connecting them all,
stitching past to present to future.
With mother and grandmother gone,
it’s all she has to do the job of mending
the shirt her husband wants to wear.
Deftly, she pulls the fiber through
the needle’s eye and begins to stitch.
She notices that, unlike her marriage,
the color is a perfect match
and she sews to mend her tattered life.

September 10, 1982

These walls have cracked and settled, for many many years

Often I have heard it said, that every wall has ears

I know these walls have witnessed, each joy and tragedy

They know the lies and love, within this family

These walls contain a history in nail holes and glue

In layers of paint and paper, so long ago were new

These walls have worn the marks of artistic tiny hands

Fingerprints and pencil lead, lipstick, dirt, and crayons

These walls have served as shelter for keeping out the rain

They've guarded every smile and frown, well within its frame

These walls have made a home for all who stepped inside

A certain warmth and comfort, laced with so much pride

The cracks have grown wider...one last look around

We say good-bye with sadness as mournful echoes sound

Twenty nine year old Susan Vale parked her
car on this cold December morn..
She wrapped her fur coat tightly around her
neck and commenced the one block walk to
the Lee Case office building where she worked
as a Para Legal. For twelve years Susan had braved
this side street of Baltimore often clutching her
pocketbook tightly as she stepped quickly past
side streets where the homeless would huddle
and hold out a hand for spare change..
But until this raw cold morn she had never parted
with even a handful of.change to one of these
losers, a name her office associates had arrogantly
given them..
And why should she? Had not life dealt her a bad
hand? As a child her parents abbanded her to
foster homes and her anger towards God, the world,
and everything in it had kept her soul in chains seeking
some kind of closure, something that could touch the
little girl within..and say, 'Her life had meaning, and that
there was some purpose to her existence..
Today she would take a chance on generosity, on a small
act of kindness..
She reached into her purse and fished out a fistful of
change and pushed the coins into the hand of this
homeless man whose tortured lonely blue eyes could
barely mumble a thank you..
Susan quickly walked away and being a half block
away the homeless man choked with tears cried out,
'Thank you marbles.' Susan frose in her tracks.
Marbles? 'That's what my daddy used to call me when
I was five.
She turned and stared deeply into the eyes of this
broken soul and rushed and knealt holding his
trembling frame to her. Through his choking tears
he throbbed, ' I am your daddy darling.'
And Susan wrapped this cold destroyed man with
her fur coat and half carrying him to the corner
coffee shop she leaned down to whisper in his
ear.
She whispered these words..
She whispered..
Daddy..'I love you.'

The old white house upon the hill
Holding past memories that linger still
Stained glass windows faced the park
Soft gaslights that shone at dark

Built at the turn of the century
In a different era from our memory
An historic legacy from those passed on
Embracing simplicity in a time long forgone

In the back a garden of Iris's grew
In the front were Lilies and Daffodils
Violets and Impatiens filled the windowsills
Adding a colored ambience to the outside view

An old wooden swing hung on the porch
A perfect pondering place perch
To watch passersby on the street below
And sip wine while you contemplated Thoreau

Days were spent engaged in a joyful family affair
With lawn games, books, wagons, trikes and bikes
Children’s giggles and laughter filled the air
Full of love and personal dislikes

Memories bring tears as they come flooding in
Visions of a life lost in the passages of time
Remembered in lines of this rhyme
All that was and could have been

Wishing for a solitary moment somehow
That it could be the past, here and now
Healing parts that need to be whole
While strengthening our souls

Lives lived in time within the muraled rooms
Looking back over the years and remembrances we own
Games played in costumes, dolls, balloons, bubbles and cartoons
The precious memories of that old house lives in our hearts as home

It seems like just the other day
Your frail body .....just lay
Within the walls of Gods hospice
Yearning for your inner peace
You thought that maybe you would last
To the day you held fast
But alas the eve you could not surpass
For time had come... it was your last
I hope you still hear your piano sing
The beautiful sounds that it did bring
Your delicate hands dancing on key
Lost forever in melody
I hope you still feel the salty air
The early dawns you wanted to share
The ocean sounds that gave life
To an enthusiasm rich with strife
I hope you still see your family grow
Your children.... with their children in tow
The sounds of laughter you did admire
You smiled with eyes that would never tire
I hope you still smell the spices abound
Enticing hunger pains within the frowns
Satisfying all who would sit down
For more was .....always the sound
I hope that you never forget
That your life was never regret
Special memories full of respect
As i sit ponder and reflect.........

Thank you for your time...