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Poems about FamiliesEditor's Pick:

T'was the twilight of my life before the dawn.
Three score and four, the years that were gone.
The beast with two backs had planted the seed,
of the child at the breast who now hungrily feeds.

Fair maiden his mother, oh what did she see?
Through eyes of such purity, in a man such as me.
Grow strong at the breast, and fear not the day,
when time takes it toll, and I've gone away.

Don't live a life in memory of the past,
ripples on the water, of a stone that was cast.
Go forward in honor, dignity, and pride.
Carrying my love for you, always, inside.

 -- Submitted by Jerry Ackerman
from Syracuse, NY


Editor's Pick:

You offered me advice
but let me decide what to do with it.
You offered me books
so my knowledge might grow
but let me expand it.
You offered me your hand
so I may not fall,
and when I slipped you just held on tighter.
You pointed the way
but let me walk the path.
You dreamed for me
but let me pursue my own dreams.
You have loved me with a love
that lets me be me,
a love that lets me go,
and still you love me.

-- Submitted by Erin from Oshkosh, WI


Lazy little blue-eyed gal
With hair of blond and pretty curls;
Close your eyes and go to sleep
While in your hair, my finger twirls.

Within my arms you feel secure
But I won't always keep you there,
For one day, you will go away
And no longer want my rocking chair.

For now, you're mine, my little one
And I can hold and kiss your cheek;
Tomorrow will see you all grown up
With another's kiss that you will seek.

Grandma's sleepy-eyed angel girl;
Must you grow before my eyes?
I want to keep you close to me
And have you, always, remain this size.

-- Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North Carolina


 "Can we help in the kitchen?"
"Can we watch you cook?"
I'd rather do this myself,
Then I stop and look

 At the innocent faces
So eager to learn.
Selfish, no more,
For now it's their turn.

 Clothes will get dirty,
Dust will appear,
Chores never ending
Year after year.

 One morning the sun will rise,
They'll wake with elation.
For they've grown and matured,
Today is graduation.

 No longer will they need me
To plan their day.
The years must have flown
And now they're on their way.

 Yet I wake from a dream,
Time is on my side.
They're still little angels
Needing me to guide.

 So I say to them,
"I'll play and read books.
I'll teach you to be
Great little cooks."

 For as you grow
And think of your Mother,
Remember my love for you
Is like no other.

-- Submitted by Lauren Swalberg from San Anselmo, CA


 She sleeps comfortably in her bed,
Cozy, with a comforter made of
Pastel colored flowers and
A soft pillow for her head.

 She dreams of a carousel
With white horses to ride
On silvery manes with bows,
Hearing a noise she can't tell...

 She awakens, realizing the squeaks
And shuffles are outside her
Window, Lying, listening, each
Sound enhanced, reaching it's peaks.

 Soon Mom sings soft tunes,
Consoling, comforting, convincing
Her precious girl, the unknown squeaks
Are the language of racoons.

 -- Submitted by Lauren Swalberg from San Anselmo, CA

Lachlan is at the age of three
Oh, what trouble he can be
Drew on the car with chalk that he found
Pulls the rear wiper on the car down

 Puts things in the video that should not be there
Draws on the walls without a care
Throws things over the fence that he can't get
In K-mart he rode a bike off into the sunset

 There's stuff on the couch of one thing or another
Like milk, toothpaste and texta color
With a BBQ tool he chopped holes in the bed
Pulled the curtains down just missing his head

 And into the toaster went a little plastic man
Fire and smoke, quickly turn on the fan
Gets everything wet when he turns on the hose
And with one mighty kick he broke the window

 I shouldn't sit here writing this poem
He is probably now destroying my home
But I shouldn't let this worry me
I must remember he is only three!

 -- Submitted by Virginia Gronow from Wattle Glen


I'd sit alone in the tall grass that swayed in the warm summer breeze.
When the sun went down, i'd leave my spot in the grass that came to my knees.
I'd do this forever, and not know why, I'd be so happy, so happy I'd cry.
My father once told me, I had my mother's spirit within,
Oh how I loved her, my dear Kelly Lynn.
Till God bore her away from me, and she told me she loved me.
My dear, dear Kelly Lynn.

 -- Submitted by Jordan from Katy, Texas


You walked in sunshine
while you were here
You sang with a voice
so loud and clear
You smiled so brightly
it would bring a tear
You laughed so happily
it banished all fear
You were
You were at times
my friend
my hero
I'll miss your voice
your words
your hugs
Thank you for the
memories of our time
summers in your garden
Christmases in your home
laughter and love
I am richer for knowing you
Vaya Con Dios
, Tia

 -- Submitted by Carra Wilmoth from Pearl, MS


Ss I stood by your bed
and held your hand tight
I could see the pain in your face,
although you tried to hide it.

 My face was wet from tears,
my hands were pale from worry.
But with all the effort you had,
you looked up at me and smiled.

 I tried to smile back,
but I couldn't bring myself to do it
because I knew that you were dying
and there was nothing I could do.

 Then your smile faded
as you slowly shut your eyes
and all those emotions I held inside
where all of a sudden alive.

 All the pain and suffering,
that I felt deep inside
were shown by tears that wouldn't stop
no matter how hard I tried.

 It was then I remembered you had promised me
that all I had to do was pray
and you would come down from heaven
and be there with me.

 So I looked up to the sky
and prayed right then and there
that you would come down to heaven
and be there with me

 It was then my tears started to stop,
as quickly as they had begun
and I knew God had sent an angel,
down from above.

 And that angel was you
he sent you down from heaven
to comfort and ease my pain.

Then I realized He took you up to heaven
so you could watch up over me
and when I felt like I was all alone
you could be there to comfort me.

-- Submitted by Katie from Spokane, Washinton


You made every wish come true,
I mean everything to you,
I'm thankful for each day you gave me.
In our small big house by the roaring sea.

Spoke for me when I was weak,
Would climb all the way to that mountain's peak,
I love you forever, you and me,
In our small big house by the roaring sea.

 Gave me wings so that i may fly,
Flew over the seas and into the sky.
Our love is strong between you and me,
In our small big house by the roaring sea.

 Daddy, you mean the world to me
and so much more,
Now it's my turn to show you how much I love you,
and to even out the score.

 -- Submitted by Jordan from Katy, Texas


Baby, baby hold your head up high,
Baby, baby please don't cry.
Momma's gonna leave you here,
Hold her memory in your heart so you can keep her near.

I know you think you did her wrong,
But think of the memories as a play, as a song.
Baby, baby it's her time to leave,
Baby, baby please don't sit there and grieve.

Baby, baby momma's gonna leave you, so behave,
Be good for your daddy, make sure that you're brave.
Give that warm loving smile and your gentle loving touch,
How she's gonna miss that, oh so much.

Baby, baby I keep using this line,
Please always think of her as beautiful and divine.
Baby, baby it's time to let go,
She loves you and always will, thought you'd just like to know.

-- Submitted by T. Nicole from Australia


Many, many years ago
When I was twenty-three
I got married to a widow
Pretty as could be.

This widow had a grow-up daughter
With flowing hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
And soon the two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
Now my daughter was my mother,
For she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,
Although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter
Who, of course, was my step-mother.

Father's wife then had a son
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother
And it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She's my grandma, too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa

-- Submitted by Molly Ellis from Dallas, Texas


Some think it a dirty word,
And speak of it with malice
As if it rhymed with buzzard
Or other words like callous.

But you have never known
The one that I call mine.
For she is good down to the bone
And I think her just divine.

She is strong and strengthens me
And from her faith I draw.
I can say I love her deeply,
This one called mother-in-law.

-- Submitted by Gloria Sarasin from Trinity, North Carolina


Why are you like this, so unfair,
this pain inside I cannot bear.
You make me sad, you make me cry,
give me an answer, just tell me why.

Why do you give him what he wants,
but when I ask, there's no response.
Why does my brother get more than I,
It's like I'm left in the cold to die.

This isn't about lollies or clothes,
this favoritism no one knows.
How far it's gone, it's very deep,
your love for me you cannot keep.

I hope you realize what you've done,
you've got a daugher as well as a son.

 -- Submitted by Kimberley Shuttleworth from
Brisbane, Queensland, Australia


You gaze at me in a stony silence.
You turn on your heel and leave the room.
The door slams shut behind you
And I am left all alone.

I bite down the urge to run afer you
To shout and make you listen to me
I know it won't solve anything
And it's best to leave you be.

Scenes like this are so common now,
You're growing away from me, it seems.
Your favourite word is "sorry"
But you don't know what it means!

I know I shouldn't have said that,
I'm sorry I was hurt.
You mean so very much to me
Love is much too small a word.

How do I tell you how I feel?
When all we do is yell at each other?
Always remember that I love you
And I'll always be your mother.

-- Submitted by Dorothy Hyett from Havant, Hants, UK

Sometimes I feel so useless, my mother tells me so.
Of course she doesn't say it in that way, but I know.

Sometimes I feel so depressed. My mother makes me feel this way.
She tells my aunt I'm better off without a husband anyway.

Sometimes I feel like I"m no good. My other makes me feel this way.
She compares me to my cousin, an A+ student, by the way.

My mother tries to put me down, but no matter, what I will succeed.
I'll grow up to be something someday, that she will never be.

-- Submitted by Catherene from Minneapolis, MN


When I die,
Burn me to ashes.
The last flame will glisten on my
Sprinkle my death upon the
And around our old peach tree.
So, when you eat it's fruit, you will

-- Submitted by Christine from East Hampton, CT


Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband's hard-core.
Evermore, heart ticking, he goes on.
They don't make his model any more.

College was uncalled for. He worked outdoors.
Body sore, he gathered lore hands-on.
Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband's hard-core.

To morons that he hired he was a mentor
And their savior after drunken goings-on.
They don't make his model any more.

Once he bore a fall from a couple of floors.
For an encore he was up again at dawn.
Through lickings, like a Timex, my husband's hard-core.

A dinosaur assailed by predators;
They've torn my self-made framer woe-be-gone.
They don't make his model any more.

Such poor health and mental tug-of-wars
that he abhors, yet he's a hanger-on.
Through lickings, like a Timex, he is hard-core.
They just don't make his model any more.

-- Submitted by Andrea Dietrich from Pleasant Grove, Utah


 Pulling, Pulling, up to standing
Now time to let go.
Stepping, Stepping, wobble bump
I fell down, did you know.

Crawling, Crawling, to a chair
Standing up again.
Stepping, Stepping, Stepping, made it
Three steps from here to there.

Looking, Looking, Mum can do it
I want to walk too.
Climbing, Climbing, up to standing
Now what shall I do.

Standing, Standing, I'm just standing
Take a step and then,
Stepping, Stepping, wobble bump
I fell down again.

 -- Submitted by Virginia Gronow from Australia


 Canning season is racing, speedily towards me,
The bounty of harvest will be ready to can.
Spaghetti sauce, stewed tomatoes, chili sauce and salsa
Will soon be preserved or waiting in the pan.

 I look painfully at this chore until it happens;
I groan and moan 'til the process has started,
But the joy that my Mother receives from canning,
Is so total and wondrous, that it changes my effort that was sadly half-hearted.

 I see how she plans for the gifts to be given;
Her pride in doing something that she'd done in the past;
To again feel useful and productive while in her 90's,
Gives impetus to extension, so her feelings will last.

 I too, am proud, when we give 'way our effort.
Proud, that the family is anxious to receive,
All that we've worked so hard to provide them;
The rewards are ten-fold of what we can conceive.

 So come on, canning season; come do your best;
Come on, bring us the tomatoes so we can begin.
Then we'll spend time together, saving food for the winter;
Offering gifts, being proud; the situation's win/win.

 -- Submitted by Jane Engelter from Middleville, MI


An island that's so small, that no man can tell how it stays afloat
I am from a city that never sleeps and a mother that never gives up
I am from a father that never shows up,
but I'm always told I'm a spitting image of
I am from a family that has so much culture and value
that I can never keep up
I am from every problem, every happiness, every confusion,
Every person that's taught me a thing or two about life and how I
should face it and to never forget where I am from

-- Submitted by Clarybel Rodriguez from Berlin, CT




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