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Redemption

He thought that he would die alone
when he entered hospice care.
Folks wind up in Calvary
who haven’t got a prayer.

Long estranged from his first wife
And the two children that she bore him.
He only sought a refuge
from pain and death before him.

The nurse on duty saw his name
And hope combined with fear.
Could this be her father that was lost?
Could fate have brought him here?

She asked the patient if he had
some family about.
He mentioned his two daughters’ names
“-but they must be grown up now.”

“I’m Wanda, I’m your daughter.”
She said, choking back her tears.
He begged for her forgiveness
For being gone for all those years.

Of course he’d missed her wedding day
and never held her child.
He’d missed so many Father’s Days.
Still, she made him proud.

Perhaps it was a twist of fate
Perhaps the Angels’ plan
That when this man had breathed his last
He held his daughter’s hand.
.

The story of the reunion of Wanda Rodriquez, hospice nurse with her estranged father, Victor Peraza, at Calvary Hospital in the Bronx.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sunday Prayer of Thanks

Dear Father in Heaven, today I'm not going to ask anything of you.
I want to praise you Lord and give thanks for all that you do.

As of late Father I've asked you for many blessings and you have granted many of them Father. You helped my daughter find her way and open a wonderful art shop, oh Lord I thank you. You kept my children out of harms way Lord and showed my grandson the error of his ways bringing him back on track Lord, I thank you. You granted my grandson, my daughter and myself a trip to Nova Scotia this year Lord, I thank you Father. You made sure my mother isn't suffering with her leg Father. You saw to it that David Harris came home from the hospital and is recovering nicely, I thank you Father. You took care of some issues for my friends Shelley and her new husband Michael Lord, I thank you.

Father God, I'm sure I've missed some, but you know what they are and that I want to thank you on their behalf.
Father God, thankyou for all the wonderful things you do and most of all Father, thankyou for your precious son 'Jesus'.

poem by Melvina Germain
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Conquest at the Hospice

For saying yes to be admitted
into the hospice, she has actually
accepted the seriousness of her
health case, that she is now
at the mouth of death.

She sends sms to dear friends
not telling that she is right at
the hospice but only wishing them
all the best in life that they
may keep their trust in God
to the very end of their days.

She knows how her daughters
have been saddened by her case
The medical treatment at the hospital,
taken so diligently each passing day,
has not really relieved her from
the agony in her mortal body.

And yet, during her last days,
as long as her lungs tolerate to breathe,
she uses the time to talk to friends,
sends them sms and wishes them all the best.
This hospice is her fortress of hope,
of courage to look at death face to face.

And we, who mourn over her last days,
realize how at this hospice, she has
vanquished the ugliness of death.
______________

poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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My father, My father

My father, my father,
I love he,
my father, my father,
made me see,
how beautiful this world really can be.
My father, my father,
said to me,
my daughter my daughter,
come see me,
I wont be around forever, and i have things that must be.
My father, my father,
dont die on me.

[I wrote this while my father was in the hospital, I'm sorry to say he never got to leave. R.I.P October 7,08.]

poem by Dakota Ellerton
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What Kind Of Father Are You?

Do a father leave his three daughter down and dry
Do a father come only three times out of a year
What kind of father are you?
Should a father leave his daughters just to take care of an other women son and daughter...
What kind of father are you?
Can a father broke a promise that he promise 10 years ago
Should a father be ashame of his three daughter looks or weight
If so what kind of father are you?

poem by Valentine White
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Mom And Dad

If my Mom and Dad had not died
When I was young
What would my life have been like?

Would my Mom had showed me
How to use make-up;
And tell me, “not too much,
Or it will cake-up.”

What about the Father and Daughter dance;
Would my Dad had taken me,
If he had the chance.

I wonder if my Mom
Would have talked to me
About my little monthly friend;

And bring me a hot cup of tea
Every month that it began,
And let me lie in bed
With a warm heating pad.

Would my Dad had talked
To me about boys;
The one’s I should date,
The one’s to avoid.

I wonder what it would be like
To have living parents when you’re grown
Would your Mom still hold you;
And hum a happy song.

If you had a day
That didn’t go right;
Would your Dad take you out,
For a Father and Daughter night.

I wonder if I would have
Asked my Dad for money;
Would he just reach in his wallet,
And say “here you go honey.”

I wonder if my Mom and Dad
Would have cried at my first wedding.
What emotion at my divorce?
Cried at my second wedding.
At the birth of my child rejoice.

Would my Mom be in the room
When I had my first baby;
Would she had held my hand,
And said “it’s part of being a lady.”

If my parents had not died
When I was young;
Would they be proud of me?
What I grew-up to be.

Copyright © by Phyllis Strong

poem by Phyllis Strong
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Father And Daughter

Father and daughter spend some quiet time together in the living room
Shining through the curtain is the sun
And outside is the glorious afternoon

Father reads to his daughter the poetry she loves
Father and daughter enjoy each other's company
Father takes his daughter by the hand
As they take a walk outside

Father cares for his daughter
And always wishes the very best to happen for her

poem by Justin Gildow
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Religious Family

Sisters and brothers are one of those precious members
In the family. Their role is infinite.
They shock themselves with delight.
They read signs and play with them.
Their signs are obvious,
Useful to the parents,
Forcing action of the family.
Heaven can arrive around the bend,
When the families die and their hell is dismissed by God.
Mothers shall look forward to heaven, and their husbands
Are found too in heaven, or shall I say Paradise.

“My son is big at religion, ” says the father to his child.
For this prayer to be answered, the boy must be big, an adult.
His life at the moment has laws broken, the lawful one is not him.
For he is criminal in his action, in his life and love.
He spent a time with another person, and did not get married.
He did not like this now, and not seven times a week.
He must pray and be forgiven, would say God.
God loves the boy’s father, however, and thus the boy is forgiven
For he is big at religion.
The father has his prayer answered.
Afterwards, the father cries for his child as he has lost him to the elements.

The story is such that it makes us cry, and cry and cry.
To find the mother, we must find the father and his prayer.
We find she is forced to marry someone else
But the daughter is forced to object, due to her religion.
The daughter is confused and wants to know why this happens.
The mother blames the divorce on her son who adventured and died.
The father’s prayer was answered but his wife went astray,
and his daughter was too big at religion.
The daughter shall grow and grow to be a happy woman.
Both parents died due to cancer.
It means the average family would die in the ways of religion,
And not religion die in the ways of family.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter

an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father

her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home

she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different

poem by Terence George Craddock
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American Soldier

His face against the window the boy starts to cry,
Out of all days on his birthday the 9th of July,
His father had just left to go back to Iraq,
And the boy didn't know if he'd ever come back,

This wasn't the first time his father went away,
But everytime he did the boy would pray,
That his father would return,
Without even a burn,

It was realy hard to have faith,
That his father would be safe,
When everyday on TV,
He'd hear about another injury,

The boy would lose hope everytime he heard a knock on the door,
And it wasn't his father coming back from the war,
Every night before going to sleep the boy thought about the war,
How his dream to be like his father in the army was not anymore,

One morning the boy woke up and he went to eat his breakfast,
And when he did he saw the one that for a long time he missed,
He tried but couldn't hold in his tears,
After realizing that God had heard his prayers,

Never again will I leave his father then said,
I have realized now all the tears I have caused to be shed,
Wether it be to family or to a friend,
This is THE END!

poem by Motti Dahan
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I'm My Own Grandpa

It was many many years ago when I was twenty-three,
I was married to a widow, she's as pretty as can be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red,
my father fell in lover with her, and soon these two were wed.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life:
My daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife.
And then to complicate the matter, though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

This bouncing 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 he also was the brother
of the widow's grown-up daughter, who, of course, was my step-mother.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandchild, 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 grandmother, too.

Now if my wife is my grandmother, then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild.
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw.
Husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.

I'm my own grandpa, I'm my own grandpa.
It sounds silly, I know, but it really is so, oh
I'm my own grandpa.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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A pious man

A pious man had gone to Burma
From where he came as a destitute,
Ran a petty shop on borrowed money,
Made to marry in late thirties to go
bankrupt,
Bore two sons and a daughter
From his equally poor but virulent
wife,
Became invalid in money and mind,
Lost his wife to his brother in celibacy,
Added one more daughter from him,
Lost the second son in electric shock,
Wandered and laboured for food,
Reaped every kind of humiliation,
And then died, later to be followed
By his wife, leaving the children
To be grown by the remaining father,
Who too died with children spreading
Under different shelters to live
And get married.
I shed my tears thinking that pious man,
Who gave me sweets when I was
Twelve, who begged of me with his Eyes
For money when I started earning.
04.10.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Father And Daughter

on a chair father sits
and daughter sits on his lap
mother is away
and father whistles a song

it was a long time
and mother dies earlier
than father

the daughter sets on a sail
far away
no one knows where
but everyone remembers

the talk becomes the official story
of the town
pretending to be happy just like any other
town in our history

the father dies and daughter
comes back
bringing the flowers
she lights a candle
she sheds no tears

poem by Suki Nakamura
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Father Daughter Moments

My daughter said something the other day
We were sitting on the front steps, talking
Someone wanted to enter the building, she stood up and said 'we're just having a father daughter moment'

My daughter is still young, only 27
And hearing her say that, my heart swelled with pride
She still wants to have moments with her father
My adult daughter still needed me

So much is said about the mother-daughter bond
But there's an even stronger bond between a father and a daughter
No matter how old she is, she's still daddy's little girl
And he always wants to be there for her

Father daughter moments last a lifetime
From playground accidents to a broken heart
You do your best to help her pain go away
Because when she's in pain, you are too

poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
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Wedding Day

Today you'll pick up all the pieces
And get on with your life
All I can hope is that you're happy
'Cause today you're someone elses wife
Right now I wish that I could turn back
And beg the hands of time
For the days that I remember (oh baby)
The days when you were mine
And if I never said I love you
It's cause the words got in the way

Now all I do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day

I'll bet you looked good at the altar
I'll bet he knew the words to say
And the angels smiled when you walked down the aisle
You both knelt down to pray
As he put his ring on your finger
I know there's just one thing left to say

All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day

So Sorry

(solo)

You won't be walking through the door anymore
You won't be sleeping in this bed anymore
Tho' I swear I see your shadow waltz accross my floor
And I don't know if I can take it
Should we ever meet again
Cause I know that we'll be strangers
When he introduces friends

I tried to make it to the church now baby
A broken heart got in the way

All I can do is tell you I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day

I really hope you're happy baby
Tho' it's killing me to say
All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed you're wedding day
Sorry I missed you're wedding
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day

song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mom Said 'Remember Them

The childless, Father remember them
they are termed barren
the subject-matter of in-laws
the meal of their evil tongues
remember them.

The single ladies, Oh Father
it's their will to have family
a husband and children
but it ain't their wish to be single
remember them.

The widow, My Father
give them love they miss
their integrity is questioned
their cries, watch it father
remember them.

Those your daughters, Father
facing intimidation
them: street's laughingstock
they have no peace in heart
shame on them can't be bore
remember them FATHER.

poem by Fate Mcfate
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Shed A Tear For Dad

From Child to Adult
We never got along as family
You loved me, You hated me
But i was always your daughter
Your life now became full when you met her
I hope your joyous with this life
You lost your daughter but gained a wife

You pushed away your blood
your my father no more for the taste of water
I'm over the will to fight
But i shed a tear for my father tonight
I guess i was never ment for a family
I'll move away from my home now
Continue my life alone
I'll tuck myself back in tonight
As i look up at the Sky
I shed a tear for dad tonight

poem by Apryll Noel Spinelli
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Father & Son

There is the family photograph
That is your father’s face,
There is your father’s father
Grey-gathering years apace;
The son, bright-eyed in the morning,
The father, lined and drawn,
The son became the father
On the day that you were born.

We’ve all set out on the highway
Our fathers wished us well,
The sons became the fathers
In the same distinctive spell;
The road of all beginnings
Is all there is to lend,
But many a twist, and many a turn
Has marred us at the end.

He was my father’s father,
I am my father’s son,
We’ve travelled as far, and farther
Than our father’s years have run;
The twists and turns of fortune
Mean nothing, lost or won,
But the love of a father’s father,
And the love of a father’s son.

3 September 1977

poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Little Big Man

I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am
as old as my father is.
My teacher will come and say, "It is late, bring your slate
and your books."
I shall tell him, " Do you not know I am as big as father? And
I must not have lessons any more."
My master will wonder and say, "He can leave his books if he
likes, for he is grown up."
I shall dress myself and walk to the fair where the crowd is
thick.
My uncle will come rushing up to me and say, "You will get
lost, my boy; let me carry you."
I shall answer, "Can't you see, uncle, I am as big as father?
I must go to the fair alone."
Uncle will say, "Yes, he can go wherever he likes, for he is
grown up."
Mother will come from her bath when I am giving money to my
nurse, for I shall know how to open the box with my key.
Mother will say, "What are you about, naughty child?"
I shall tell her, "Mother, don't you know, I am as big as
father, and I must give silver to my nurse."
Mother will say to herself, "He can give money to whom he
likes, for he is grown up."
In the holiday time in October father will come home and,
thinking that I am still a baby, will bring for me from the town
little shoes and small silken frocks.
I shall say, "Father, give them to my data, for I am as big
as you are."
Father will think and say, "He can buy his own clothes if he
likes, for he is grown up."

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Stories Of Hope Series #1 living in poverty-the trapper and family

Born high in the mountains of Tennessee
With no running water, or electricity.
Living in rags that her father found in the woods
Was her only salvation, her only goods.
They put her in pampers that they had found
Dirty and filthy and pulled from the ground.
A rock stove and firewood
They would eat when they could.
He did fishing and trapping just to survive.
The closest neighbor was twenty miles away
By the time he walked there he would have to stay.
The neighbor would take all that he trapped
In return give him food, clothing, ammunition and fat.
The neighbor then told him:
This is no way to raise a child.
You’ve been in the mountains quite a while.
Things have changed drastically
In school is where this child should be.
This child must learn how to read and write
What you’re doing to her, just isn’t right.
He packed up his knapsack and up the mountain he fled
Putting her with other children, was something he did dread.
He finally got home where his wife and child awaited
He looked at them and then hesitated.
With gleams in their eyes of the goodies he brought.
The child looked in the bag for a doll that she sought.
Not finding the doll in the bag, she turned and walked
From the room looking so sad
She went outside deep in the woods
her head hung down and there she stood.
The tears started to form in her eyes
And then she did cry.
Her father saw this and his heart broke in two
Now he knew what he had to do.
The following morning he went back down the mountain again
To speak to his neighbor, his only friend.
He asked his friend what should I do
My daughter is suffering and feeling blue.
I don’t have the money to buy her things, or send her to school
And living in the mountains is not the right tool.
He said: you are a natural born mountain man
And for you I do have a plan.
How would you like to teach others how to survive
And into your mountains they would climb.
You can teach them how to hunt and fish
This is on a city dwellers wish list.
You will get paid for what you love to do
And to your heart you will be true.
Looking at his family and the way they lived
An education for his child he had to give.
His friend set up flyers and posted them all over town
And on the internet this mountain man was found.
He brought his child down from the mountain top
And until she had an education he would not stop.
She stayed with this neighbor and friend
And saw all that she had missed
She was in heaven, she was in bliss.
Her father now made enough to continue her education
And to learn those golden rules, now he knew she had the tools.
She grew up with hope in their heart
And her father and neighbor gave her the start.
Now don’t ever think that there is nothing
That you can’t do.
With hope in your heart, you can follow thru.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET OURSELVES FREE.

poem by Louis Rams
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Fathers hands

Born in her mothers whomb,
held so gently in fathers arms,
such grace and ease as a young third born child looks
up at the father with wide eyes and amazement,
as they take their first look into eachothers eyes feeled with wonder,
their hearts connect with a father daughter bond that binds around the
thorns of a rose...

As she grows she wispers, forever my father you will be and this bond
a daughter has for her father will forever be bound.

poem by Melissa Hatch
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