DADDY POEMS

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Lost Smiles

Walking miles and miles,
In search of lost smiles.
I wonder where it's gone,
Or someone has stolen it leaving me alone.
.....
Shalu Yadav

Shalu Yadav
Grandson

Act like them, you won’t make it
Appreciate their era, for who you are today
Griddles’ threaten your health, forgiveness heals
10 million budget function is nothing, for they are not alive
.....
Marco Babu

Marco Babu
Dear Daddy

My dear daddy,
You gave me intensive care for being weak ,
And made me what I am today,
Believing that I can be by your side,
.....
Norbu Dorji

Norbu Dorji
The Little Hurts

Every night she runs to me
With a bandaged arm or a bandaged knee,
A stone-bruised heel or a swollen brow,
And in sorrowful tones she tells me how
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Boy Named Sue

Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
.....
Shel Silverstein

Shel Silverstein
Joy

I never knew the joy of getting home,
I never knew how fast a heart could beat;
I never tasted joy,
Till the day my little boy
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Hawporth.

Whear is thi Daddy, doy? Whear is thi mam?
What are ta cryin for, poor little lamb?
Dry up thi peepies, pet, wipe thi wet face;
Tears o' thy little cheeks seem aght o' place.
.....

John Hartley
The Carrier's Story Or, Brighten's Sister-in-law

At a point where the old road crosses
The river, and turns to the right,
I'd camped with the team; and the hosses
Was all fixed up for the night.
.....
Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson
All In A Family Way

My banks are all furnished with rags,
So thick, even Freddy can't thin 'em;
I've torn up my old money-bags,
Having little or nought to put in 'em.
.....
Thomas Moore

Thomas Moore
The Old-fashioned Thanksgiving

It may be I am getting old and like too much to dwell
Upon the days of bygone years, the days I loved so well;
But thinking of them now I wish somehow that I could know
A simple old Thanksgiving Day, like those of long ago,
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
Daddy

Oh so you're daddy now?
These are the the fruits of the seed you laid,
Are you happy now?
All the darkness shall be prevailed
.....
Khanyisile Machika

Khanyisile Machika
Only Words... My Son

Yield to love; both a proper self-love
and a sincere love for others.
One that will do no harm to you or your neighbor,
both here and for eternity.
.....
David Carolissen

David Carolissen
His Santa Claus

He will not come to him this year with all his old-time joy,
An imitation Santa Claus must serve his little boy;
Last year he heard the reindeers paw the roof above his head,
And as he dreamed the kindly saint tip-toed about his bed,
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Wind Has Blown The Rain Away And Blown

a wind has blown the rain away and blown
the sky away and all the leaves away,
and the trees stand. I think i too have known
autumn too long
.....
E. E. Cummings

E. E. Cummings
Janet Waking

Beautifully Janet slept
Till it was deeply morning. She woke then
And thought about her dainty-feathered hen,
To see how it had kept.
.....

John Crowe Ransom
With Kit, Age 7, At The Beach

We would climb the highest dune,
from there to gaze and come down:
the ocean was performing;
we contributed our climb.
.....

William Stafford
Sylvester-s Dying Bed

I woke up this morninâ??
â??Bout half-past three.
All the womens in town
Was gathered round me.
.....
Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes
Here Comes

(a flip through BRIDE's)

The silver spoons
were warbling
.....

Erica Jong
Bongaloo

'What is a Bongaloo, Daddy?'
'A Bongaloo, Son,' said I,
'Is a tall bag of cheese
Plus a Chinaman's knees
.....

Spike Milligan
O'hara, J.p.

James Patrick O'Hara the Justice of Peace,
He bossed the P.M. and he bossed the police;
A parent, a deacon, a landlord was heâ??
A townsman of weight was Oâ??Hara, J.P.
.....
Henry Lawson

Henry Lawson
Dinner-time

Tuggin' at your bottle,
An' it's O, you're mighty sweet!
Just a bunch of dimples
From your top-knot to your feet,
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
Tam Lin

O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.
.....

Anonymous
Daddy What If?

(Daddy what if the sun stop shinin' what would happen then?)
If the sun stopped shinin' you'd be so surprised
You'd stare at the heavens with wide open eyes
And the wind would carry your light to the skies
.....
Shel Silverstein

Shel Silverstein
Fathers

Can you really forget your father,
The man who made your mother a mother,
The one who set you free,
On a journey for survival,
.....
Johndoe

Johndoe
Bud

Who is it lives to the full every minute,
Gets all the joy and the fun that is in it?
Tough as they make 'em, and ready to race,
Fit for a battle and fit for a chase,
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Freckle-faced Boy.

I.

I'm just in my glory when the cat I can tease,
Or I'm hunting for bird nests up in the trees,
.....

George W. Doneghy
The Old-time Family

rdens they are bearing, with a child or two to raise.
Of course the cost of living has gone soaring to the sky
And our kids are wearing garments that my parents couldn't buy.
Now my father wasn't wealthy, but I never heard him squeal
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
A Poem For Myself

I was born in Mississippi;
I walked barefooted thru the mud.
Born black in Mississippi,
Walked barefooted thru the mud.
.....

Etheridge Knight
The Farmer's Daughter

The Rector met a little lass
Who led a heifer by a rope.
Said he: “Why don't you go to Mass?
Do you not want to please the Pope?”
.....
Robert Service

Robert Service
L'aducazzione (education)

Fijo, nun ribbartà mai tata tua:
Abbada a tte, nun te fà mette sotto.
Si quarchiduno te viè a dà un cazzotto,
Lì callo callo tu dajene dua.
.....

Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
The Farmer's Daughter

The Rector met a little lass
Who led a heifer by a rope.
Said he: "Why don't you go to Mass?
Do you not want to please the Pope?"
.....

Robert William Service
Father Death Blues

Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going

.....

Allen Ginsberg
Sackcloth

I made sackcloth my garment once, by cutting
arm and neck holes into a burlap bag.
A croker sack they called it. Sackdragger
they called the man who dragged a croker sack
.....

Brooks Haxton
The Wife

“Tell Annie I'll be home in time
To help her with her Christmas-tree.”
That's what he wrote, and hark! the chime
Of Christmas bells, and where is he?
.....
Robert Service

Robert Service
The Ballad Of The New Arrival

IT isn't the blue in the skies,
Nor the song of the whispering trees,
The light in a fair maiden's eyes,
My joy is far greater than these;
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
Dream Boogie

Good morning, daddy!
Ain't you heard
The boogie-woogie rumble
Of a dream deferred?
.....
Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes
Old Pardon, The Son Of Reprieve

You never heard tell of the story?
Well, now, I can hardly believe!
Never heard of the honour and glory
Of Pardon, the son of Reprieve?
.....

Banjo Paterson
Little Orphant Annie

Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board an' keep;
.....

James Whitcomb Riley
Cow

Aw, go write yer tinklin' jingle, an' yer pretty phrases mingle,
Fer the mamby-pamby girl, all fluffy frill an' shinin' silk.
Them's the sort ter fetch yer trouble, when yer tries 'em, in the double.
Blow yer beauty! Wot's the matter with the maiden 'oo kin milk?
.....

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Story-time

'TELL us a story,' comes the cry
From little lips when nights are cold,
And in the grate the flames leap high.
'Tell us a tale of pirates bold,
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
Elegy On The Year 1788

FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn,
E'en let them die-for that they're born:
But oh! prodigious to reflec'!
A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck!
.....
Robert Burns

Robert Burns
Expositor Veritatis

I Slept, and, waking in the years to be,
Heard voices, and approaching whence they came,
Listened indifferently where a key
Had lately been removed. An ancient dame
.....

Ambrose Bierce
Blue-blood

We thought at first, this man is a king for sure,
Or the branch of a mighty and ancient and famous lineageâ??
That silly, sulky, illiterate, black-avised boor
Who was hatched by foreign vulgarity under a hedge.
.....

James Stephens
Snooping 'round

Last night I caught him on his knees and looking underneath the bed,
And oh, the guilty look he wore, and oh, the stammered words he said,
When I, pretending to be cross, said: 'Hey, young fellow, what's your
game?'
.....
Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest
The Blind And The Dead

She lay like a saint on her copper couch;
Like an angel asleep she lay,
In the stare of the ghoulish folks that slouch
Past the Dead and sneak away.
.....

Robert William Service
As Between Pensioners

''Tis precious stuff,' said old George Jones
'When men sore needs a fall;
Tho' how or why it comes, I owns
I ain't got clear at all.
.....

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
The Loving Shepherdess

The little one-room schoolhousc among the redwoods Opened its door, a dozen children ran out And saw on the narrow road between the dense trees A persona girl by the long light-colored hair: The torn brown cloak that she wore might be a man's Or woman's eitherwalking hastily northward Among a huddle of sheep. Her thin young face Seemed joyful, and lighted from inside, and formed Too finely to be so wind-burnt. As she went forward One or another of the trotting sheep would turn Its head to look at her face, and one would press Its matted shoulder against her moving thigh. The schoolchildren stood laughing and shouting together. 'Who's that? ' 'Clare Walker,' they said, 'down from the hill. She'd fifty sheep and now she's got eight, nine, Ten: what have you done with all the others, Clare Walker? ' The joy that had lived in her face died, she yet Went on as if she were deaf, with forward eyes And lifted head, but the delicate lips moving. The jeering children ran in behind her, and the sheep Drew nervously on before, except the old ram, That close at her side dipped his coiled horns a little But neither looked back nor edged forward. An urchin shouted 'You killed your daddy, why don't you kill your sheep? ' And a fat girl, 'Oh where's your lover, Clare Walker? He didn't want you after all.' The patriarch ram That walked beside her wore a greasy brown bundle Tied on his back with cords in the felt of wool, And one of the little boys, running by, snatched at it So that it fell. Clare bent to gather it fallen, And tears dropped from her eyes. She offered no threat With the bent staff of rosy-barked madrone-wood That lay in her hand, but said 'Oh please, Oh please,' As meek as one of her ewes. An eight-year-old girl Shrilled, 'Whistle for the dogs, make her run like a cat, Call your dog, Charlie Geary! ' But a brown-skinned Spanish-Indian boy came forward and said, 'You let her alone. They'll not hurt you, Clare Walker. Don't cry, I'll walk beside you.' She thanked him, still crying. Four of the children, who lived southward, turned back; The rest followed more quietly. The black-haired boy Said gently, 'Remember to keep in the road, Clare Walker. There's enough grass. The ranchers will sick their dogs on you If you go into the pastures, because their cows Won't eat where the sheep have passed; but you can walk Into the woods.' She answered, 'You're kind, you're kind. Oh yes, I always remember.' The small road dipped Under the river when they'd come down the hill, A shallow mountain river that Clare skipped over By stone after stone, the sheep wading beside her. The friendly boy went south to the farm on the hill, 'good-by, good-by,' and Clare with her little flock Kept northward among great trees like towers in the river- valley. Her sheep sidled the path, snifHng The bitter sorrel, lavender-flowering in shade, and the withered ferns. Toward evening they found a hollow Of autumn grass. II Clare laughed and was glad, she undid the bundle from the ram's back And found in the folds a battered metal cup and a broken loaf. She shared her bread with the sheep, A morsel for each, and prettily laughing Pushed down the reaching faces. 'Piggies, eat grass. Leave me the crust, Tiny, I can't eat grass. Nosie, keep off. Here Frannie, here Frannie.' One of the ewes came close and stood to be milked, Clare stroked The little udders and drank when the cup filled, and filled it again and drank, dividing her crust With the milch ewe; the flock wandered the glade, nibbling white grass. There was only one lamb among them, The others had died in the spring storm. The light in the glade suddenly increased and changed, the hill High eastward began to shine and be rosy-colored, and bathed in so clear a light that up the bare hill Each clump of yucca stood like a star, bristling sharp rays; while westward the spires of the giant wood Were strangely tall and intensely dark on the layered colors of the winter sundown; their blunt points touched The high tender blue, their heads were backed by the amber, the thick-branched columns Crossed flaming rose. Then Clare with the flush Of the solemn and glad sky on her face went lightly down to the river to wash her cup; and the flock Fed on a moment before they looked up and missed her. The ewe called Frannie had gone with Clare, and the others Heard Frannie' s hooves on the crisp oak-leaves at the edge of the glade. They followed, bleating, and found their mistress On the brink of the stream, in the clear gloom of the wood, and nipped the cresses from the water. Thence all returning Lay down together in the glade, but Clare among them Sat combing her hair, with a gap-toothed comb brought from the bundle. The evening deepened, the thick blonde strands Hissed in the comb and glimmered in the brown twilight, Clare began weeping, full of sorrow for no reason As she had been full of happiness before. She braided her hair and pillowed her head on the bundle; she heard The sheep breathing about her and felt the warmth of their bodies, through the heavy fleeces. In the night she moaned And bolted upright. 'Oh come, come, Come Fern, come Frannie, Leader and Saul and Tiny, We have to go on,' she whispered, sobbing with fear, and stood With a glimmer in her hair among the sheep rising. The halved moon had arisen clear of the hill, And touched her hair, and the hollow, in the mist from the river, was a lake of whiteness. Clare stood wreathed with her flock And stared at the dark towers of the wood, the dream faded away from her mind, she sighed and fondled The frightened foreheads. 'Lie down, lie down darlings, we can't escape it.' But after that they were restless And heard noises in the night nil dawn. They rose in the quivering Pale clearness before daylight, Clare milked her ewe, The others feeding drifted across the glade Like little clouds at sunrise wandering apart; She lifted up the madrone-wood staff and called them. 'Fay, Fern, Oh Frannie. Come Saul. Leader and Tiny and Nosie, we have to go on.' They went to the stream and then returned to the road And very slowly went north, nibbling the margin Bushes and grass, tracking the tender dust With numberless prints of oblique crossings and driftings. They came to Fogler's place and two ruffian dogs Flew over the fence: Clare screaming 'Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,' An inarticulate wildbird cry, brandishing The staff but never striking, stood out against them, That dashed by her, and the packed and trembling ball Of fleeces rolling into the wood was broken. The sheep might have been torn there, some ewe or the lamb Against the great foundations of the trees, but Fogler Ran shouting over the road after his dogs And drove them home. Clare gathered her flock, the sobbing Throats and the tired eyes, 'Fay, Fern, Oh Frannie, Come Leader, come little Hornie, come Saul'; and Fogler: 'You ought to get a good dog to help take care of them.' He eyed curiously her thin young face, Pale parted lips cracked by the sun and wind, And then the thin bare ankles and broken shoes. 'Are you Clare Walker? I heard that you'd gone away: But you're Clare Walker, aren't you? ' 'We had a dog,' She said, 'a long time ago but he went away. There, Nosie. Poor Frannie. There. These poor things Can find their food, but what could I keep a dog with? But that was some years ago.' He said, 'Are these all? They're all gathered? I heard you'd thirty or forty.' Then hastily, for he saw the long hazel eyes Filling with tears, 'Where are you going, Clare Walker? Because I think it will rain in a week or two, You can't sleep out then.' She answered with a little shudder, 'Wherever I go this winter will be all right. I'm going somewhere next April.' Fogler stood rubbing His short black beard, then dropped his hand to scratch The ram's forehead by the horns but Saul drew away. And Fogler said: 'You're too young and too pretty To wander around the country like this. I'd ask you to come here when it rains, but my wife... And how could I keep the sheep



.....

Robinson Jeffers
Grandfather Bridgeman

I

'Heigh, boys!' cried Grandfather Bridgeman, 'it's time before dinner to-day.'
He lifted the crumpled letter, and thumped a surprising 'Hurrah!'
.....
George Meredith

George Meredith
Want To Be Whur Mother Is

'Want to be whur mother is! Want to be whur mother is!'
Jeemses Rivers! won't some one ever shet that howl o' his?
That-air yellin' drives me wild!
Cain't none of ye stop the child?
.....

James Whitcomb Riley