Father's Day Poems From Son

The relationship between a father and his son is filled with fun. Since they belong to the same gender, father and son tend to develop a considerable degree of understanding and a strong bond over the passing years. It is very common to find father and son becoming friendlier, as the latter grows older. Father's Day is the perfect occasion to cherish the unique bond between a father and his son. Through wonderful poems, a number of authors have conveyed their heartfelt feelings for their father, many of which can be easily related to your own life. Go through the following lines and check out some of the popular Father's Day poems from son.

Father's Day Poetry For Sons

Father And Son
You're standing in the doorway.
Your workday is all done.
He waits to see you everyday,
this boy that is your son.

He hopes you will go fishing.
He hopes you'll shoot the gun.
He just wants to be with you,
this boy that is your son.

He is your spitting image.
To him you are ''The One''.
He hopes to be just like you,
this boy that is your son.

You show him what a man is.
You teach as you have fun.
You are admired as well as loved
by this boy that is your son.

You've got a friend forever.
Until the world is done.
Then, still you will be holding
this man that is your son.
- Mary Nagy

Son And Father
A father adoring eyes
Expressions of love
Kindness and compassion
A father mentoring
patience and understanding
strength and courage

A father who is fun
laughs and runs
plays with his son

A father who listens
meek and mild
open-minded and moral

Be proud father
Your son is a scholar
And an agile athlete

Be proud father
Your son is a vision of you
who will carry your traits

Be proud father
Your son shows your heart
soul and spirit

Be proud father
Your son an incredible young man
the world is in his hands

Be proud father
Your son has a dream
he is a miracle of you
- Heather Mirassou

My Papa's Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt
- Theodore Roethke