My heart is most pleased and blessed by family and family relationship poems, for they are closest to my heart. Some of these offerings are funny, moving, nostalgic, or religious. Others are more complex, refusing (as families themselves do) to fit neatly under any one characterization. My poems value the complexity of every family relationship and respect those who honor and uphold it. I hope you find something that resonates with you here. May the poems evoke feelings (delightful and occasionally less so) that we all associate with being part of a family.
FINDING THE POEM YOU WANT: As you scroll through this section, simply read each snippet sample (usually the first four lines) to get a feel for the poem. When you find something you like, click “CONTINUE READING” to view the entire poem.
(My work may be used free for non-commercial purposes only. Please request permission by email and include full copyright information, legibly printed, on every copy made. For internet use, a link back to the poem on this website is required.)
What do baby brothers do?
Mine eats and sleeps and goes poo-poo.
He doesn’t play a single game,
He doesn’t even know my name
or his name, either. Not at all.
He stares right past me when I call!
I may not be as small and helpless
as I used to be.
I’m not the little girl who used to
climb up on your knee.
When I was young, life rolled along
in notes as varied as a song.
My music played, light and profound,
both rainbow hues and solemn sound.
A man and woman love, they mate,
and from that union, they create
a temple for God’s spirit child
entrusted to their care.
My mother’s love is mine to keep.
It cannot die – nor does it sleep,
but warms me like the golden sun
with rays too strong to be undone.
Each memory its own comfort gives,
a sweet reminder that she lives
and loves and watches from afar,
as bright and constant as a star.
My fate belongs to me alone,
compelled by neither king nor throne.
I choose the pathway I will trod,
a freedom granted me by God.
Reaching for light,
blooms bright against the
coming of the night,
we stand as one and shun
the close of day.
My mother’s love, rooted in me,
is sturdy oak and sheltering tree.
Beneath her branches, I have grown
secure enough to stand alone
and yet be nurtured by her care,
supported by her presence there.