Daughter poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best daughter poems ever written. Read all poems about daughter.
The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
And if it snowed and snow covered the drive
he took a spade and tossed it to one side.
And always tucked his daughter up at night
And slippered her the one time that she lied.
You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.
My daughter plays on the floor
with plastic letters,
red, blue & hard yellow,
learning how to spell,
Lie back daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
All Greece hates
the still eyes in the white face,
the lustre as of olives
where she stands,
What you have heard is true. I was in his house.
His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His
daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the
night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol
Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty- the unhidden heart-
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,
Cries, ``Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o'er the ferry! ''-
If the year is meditating a suitable gift,
I should like it to be the attitude
of my great- great- grandmother,
legendary devotee of the arts,
A daughter is beauty at its finest.
Heart of an angel, soul so pure, and sweet.
The shadowy Daughter of Urthona stood before red Orc,
When fourteen suns had faintly journey'd o'er his dark abode:
His food she brought in iron baskets, his drink in cups of iron:
I can hear screams from the back of the barns
"somebody help, someone help, call 911,
my daughter is bleeding".
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
Graduation Day is the climax of a dream.
A parental dream that began when a child is born,
And their hope come true it would seem,
A triumph held after periods of forlorn,
She begins, and my grandmother joins her.
Mother and daughter sing like young girls.
If my father were alive, he would play
his accordion and sway like a boat.
To say that she came into me,
from another world, is not true.
Nothing comes into the universe
and nothing leaves it.
All are not taken; there are left behind
Living Belovèds, tender looks to bring
And make the daylight still a happy thing,
And tender voices, to make soft the wind:
We live from day to day to day
and we play and we play and we play
we always have and we think we always will
yes there is a brain cell that knows that end it will
Dark is dark, let it be,
Why to unravel them?
Let them be the myths of darkness,
The dark daughter, dark the world, darker the myths of Creation, What it is dark, let it be, let it be,
(The Departure of The Bridal Daughter)
In a mother's eye her own child is the most beautiful child in the world.To me my daughter is no less than a barbie doll.When she was small, I used to doll her up beautifully and loved to look at her
dressed up in beautiful dresses.
She is my second child and so most of her toys were her elder brother's used ones.The gifts she gets on her birthday or on other occasions were usurped by her elder brother.
When you take my daughter from me
Will she keep my name
Or allow her stars to keep the skies bright still
my daughter my daughter my eldest daughter
has worked part time weekends holidays
since she was thirteen now she is older fifteen
always her choice her wishes in employment
my eldest daughter surprised as an exceptional checkout worker
my eldest daughter finished allemployment courses fast
my eldest daughter arrived on time never missed shifts called in sick
my eldest daughter worked extra shifts short staffed more than most
Date & Time: 9/21/2020 4: 16: 00 PM
Poem: 59230591 - For Hank Only
Member: Susan Williams
Comment: Sniff, I feel so excluded...
Daughter: Mom, we've got a man by the door
Mother: Oh! The coffee man has finally come
Daughter: No! He figures a complex without a spoor
Mother: Then you had better got glimpse at a gnome
Men, treat your daughter(s) the way you treat their mother
Show them that there is no other,
Always show them love, and compassion and care
Then every night, you will then be in their thanks and prayer,
Writing a poem is not about bringing some words together to create some charming sentences. It's so much deeper than that. Writing poetry is a bridge that allows people to express their feelings and make others live every single word they read. Poetry is to educate people, to lead them away from hate to love, from violence to mercy and pity. Writing poetry is to help this community better understand life and live it more passionately. PoemHunter.com contains an enormous number of famous poems from all over the world, by both classical and modern poets. You can read as many as you want, and also submit your own poems to share your writings with all our poets, members, and visitors.