Most Liked Family Poems (502)

Fear Of A Child

The rain taps the window as the wind blows
and the fear of the child goes on and grows.
So glad that he's here safe in his bed
yet his eyes are wide and full of dread,
at those unseen monsters out in the night
oh why did his mother put out the light?
He shivers a little he's losing control
his eyes are watching, they're on patrol.
What's that at the window, is it a face
is someone trying to get into our place?
Blind panic makes him throw off the cover
and run with tears and sobs to his mother
who had heard him cry and come to see
"Don't be silly" she said "It's only me!"

sonofadam

The Awakening

Suddenly a baby cries in my vigilant ear
yet I, in cosiness, pretend I cannot hear.
Saying to myself "It's not my turn yet!"
Not thinking that She is bound to forget
or like me is pretending to be asleep still,
knowing that soon I will have had my fill.
First to snap and rise in a rage growling
I confront the child in the cot, cowering.
But at sight of this bundle, eyes so wide
I feel a parent's shame deep down inside.
Gently as I lift and hold our infant I feel
my blood slowly awakening, I then reveal
a love from my heart that is rarely shown
and a pride in myself I have never known.
The clearing of a throat in the nearby bed
causes natural curiosity to turn my head.
I see a face in a hand leaning on an elbow
with two moist eyes in a look I well know.
She pats the sheet to where I should lie,
we snuggle up, all three, lest a baby cry!

Sonofadam

Colours Of Coincidence

The fierceness of the sudden downpour
had pedestrians scurrying for the nearest door,
and under trees, children screaming,
childish screams from the confines of adult coats
pulled snugly over young heads, already steaming.
I stood at my favoured window upstairs
my daughter Jennifer close by my side
arms tight round my waist protecting me
from the storm outside.
As suddenly as the hailstones had made a show
There appeared in front of us a double rainbow
with vivid colours as bright as Spring,
“Such a sight is a beautiful thing!”
Said a voice at my side in a whispery sound,
then she spoke the colours right out loud
as if somehow I couldn’t see
for a moment there was only Jennifer and me.
Yet, something in the tone of what she said
had me thinking of my parents, long since dead.
My daughter spoke to me again, “Dad do you know
the sun and rain don’t make a double rainbow
my Nan and Granddad make them glow!”
The colours brightened briefly then faded
leaving four moist eyes staring, not jaded!

sonofadam

To A Critic

When a critic read my writing
his retort was somewhat dry.
“Why thirty years of waiting
before you made your try?”

His comment made me wonder
can I really be too old?
Will history go asunder
if English I now unfold?

Is poetry not an ageless thing
like man himself, is he?
As a daffodil in the Spring
and the summer it can see?

Am I wrong to write my verse
though I do admit, I age.
Should I get a response so terse
I still can feel the rage?

I rest my case upon you now
and hope you feel the shame.
I leave you with a sacred vow,
someday you’ll know my name!

No explanation will I give
to critics of any kind.
All I ask is “Let me live
to write what’s in my mind!”

sonofadam

Trick Of Time

High on my wall hangs that clock
whiskers twitching, tick tock, tick tock.
Like the patient face of a Buddhist cat
communicating only with what it looks at.
Unconcerned as to how many it has offended
yet many a broken heart has been mended
locked within that tick and in that tock
because of the healing power of that clock!

sonofadam

The Proud Cemetery

When Winter ice begins to slither
and Jack Frost begins to dither
when April has its annual shower
and daffodils begin to quiver.

When windy days have lost their shiver
and gangs of sparrows start to gather
when thoughts come to a loving father
and he knows he has a good daughter.

When Winter clothing goes in the drawer
and a young man is glad he saw her
when nature urges all things hither
and lustful loins begin to shudder.

When all this has turned to Summer
and two young bodies come together
when the young man is glad he won her
and the good daughter's to be a mother.

When Autumn comes but feels like Winter
and the young man then forsakes her
when she turns to her dad for shelter
and he says "You're not my daughter!"

When she feels all the world disowns her
and then she meets an out of towner
when he supplies her with a booster
and she takes it and takes it further.

When she finally ends up like a dosser
and dirty legs galore go across her
when she dies of Aids just like a leper
and her grave reads "Beloved Daughter!"

sonofadam

I walk outside and look at the sky
I am feeling so alive.
The sky so blue
The sun so bright
The clouds are looking oh so white.

The smell of the flowers is in the air.
I feel the breeze blow threw my long brown hair.
The sun shines on my soft face.
I really think this is such a lovely place.

I sit on the grass with my little boy
We sit and play with all his toys.
The grass between our little toes,
The smell of flowers in his little nose.

We lie on the grass and look in the sky
We look at each cloud as they slowly move by.
All of a sudden out of nowhere I begin to cry.
He asks me what’s wrong mommy as he wipes the tear off the side of my cheek.
I reply to him “Nothing baby, Mommy is happy being here with you.”
He smiles so playfully and hands me a flower.
I am starting to feel the power of the sun as it shines down on the two of us together.

Old Maids, Headstones And Advice Come Free

Well meaning advice taken, I shall read
everything to aid my writing I need,
on the back shelves of my local library
under the title “Poetry”.
Not, of course, the ‘Very great’
‘the masters’, ‘the bards’, the ‘very late’
but modern stuff, you know
those little books that help collections grow!

With untouched pages that sit like old maids!

Still waiting, hopeful still
time passing, with time to kill!
Like headstones on ancient graves
after death, when God pulls down the shades,
with faded words passers by feel obliged to read,
you know, before reality can proceed!

But don’t forget old maids too, are free.
Well, some day it might be me,
someday, it might,
if I take the advice, and write!

sonofadam

First Access

A little girl so pretty and so fair
awakens to the dawn without a care,
with eyes sparkling and cheeks so red
she throws off the cover and out of bed.
To find presents and lots of cards too
with words written there eternally true.
"Happy Birthday" her whole family call
helping to make her feel ever so tall.
Opening her cards first, mother says so
watching the fun with proud eyes aglow.
But amongst the mail something is amiss
one card there is sealed with a kiss,
as mum reads it out, she can't understand
then leaps forward and takes mum's hand
"What's that you said mum, I feel so glad
did you say it was a card from my dad?"
With a tear in her eye her mum says "Yes"
cursing the man for leaving such a mess,
but just as the thought crosses her mind
a knocking is heard, of a familiar kind!

sonofadam

A Poet’s Personal Prayer

I pray that all suffering comes to an end
regardless of where those in pain live,
to God in prayer my sincere words I send
to all in distress my sympathy I give.

I pray that all wrongdoers get caught
and are granted their just rewards,
in the spirit our fathers’ war was fought
for the peaceful world we move towards.

I pray that all good words are set free
from the private library in my mind,
allowing my peers a new creation to see
my elusive poem of a different kind!

sonofadam