Daughter Poems
Come Up From The Fields, Father
by Walt Whitman
Come up from the fields, father, here's a letter from our Pete;
And come to the front door, mother-here's a letter from thy dear
son.
Lo, 'tis autumn;
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages, with leaves fluttering in the
moderate wind;
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang, and grapes on the trellis'd
vines;
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Brave New World
by Robert William Service
One spoke: "Come, let us gaily go
With laughter, love and lust,
Since in a century or so
We'll all be boneyard dust.
When unborn shadows hold the screen,
(Our betters, I'll allow)
'Twill be as if we'd never been,
A hundred years from now.
When we have played life's lively game
......
The Mylora Elopement
by Banjo Paterson
By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep,
And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleep,
Folds his fleecy flocks that linger homewards in the setting sun
Lived my hero, Jim the Ringer, "cocky" on Mylora Run.
Jimmy loved the super's daughter, Miss Amelia Jane McGrath.
Long and earnestly he sought her, but he feared her stern papa;
And Amelia loved him truly -- but the course of love, if true,
Never yet ran smooth or duly, as I think it ought to do.
Pondering o'er his predilection, Jimmy watched McGrath, the boss,
......
Where Is It Clean
by Evie Shockley
when your mother can rise from her place
on the pew during the early service,
early enough that the sun barely fills the sky
with its weak straw, but row after row
in the auditorium is flush with folks who want
to be home before the football game gets underway
or hate the slower pace the later service takes
......
Lord Walter's Wife
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I
'But where do you go?' said the lady, while both sat under the yew,
And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue.
II
'Because I fear you,' he answered;--'because you are far too fair,
And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.'
......
The idle child
by Sanjana N J
Gratitude knots in my throat.
I am surrounded by the bounty of her sacrifices, yet I let it slip through my fingers.
My heart aches with the weight of her expectations, each one a burden I fail to shoulder.
I am the idle child in the garden of plenty, the squanderer of every gift bestowed upon me.
Perfect daughter
by Astha Verma
It's a September morning
Everything inside me is breaking
Everything seems okay yet I am not fine
Can't control this mind of mine
It's easy for you to point at my defect
But I already know I am not perfect
No matter how much I do
It's never enough for you
I wanna do more just so you'll be happy
But they are not cooperating, my mind and body
......
My land’s orphan
by Kira Rodionova
Peaches heated by my sun
A dress so simple and so cotton
Would that child ever come
Back home
Where she is forgotten
Would the wind caress the ankles
Like it did so many times before
Would that land eventually remember
That her daughter is left outdoors?
......
A Warrior in Her Own Right
by Oscar Auliq-Ice
She walks with grace and elegance,
Her every step a dance of joy,
A woman of strength and resilience,
Her spirit free, her heart pure as gold.
Her eyes are deep pools of mystery,
Reflecting the depths of her soul,
Her smile a ray of warm sunshine,
That lights up even the darkest of days.
......
Narciso
by Lia P
I smelled a perfume
and it smelled like her
Mami
and no she is not gone but the version of me that loved her when she wore the perfume is
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James Macpherson (32 poems about Daughter)
27 October 1736 – 17 February 1796 / Ruthven, Kingussie, Badenoch, Inverness-Shire, Scotland -
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Soumalya Chatterjee (1 poem about Daughter)
March 27, 2003, WB, INDIA.. An amateur writer. Emotional. Depressed. Write poems doing the pen in my own blood. -
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