Here is some Fathers Day poems  to  Share with Dads on Fathers Day and every day to show him your love and how much you care.

What Makes a Dad


God took the strength of a mountain,
The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun,
The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature,
The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages,
The power of the eagle's flight,
The joy of a morning in spring,
The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity,
The depth of a family need,
Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so,

He called it ... Dad

~Author Unknown- 

OUR FATHERS


Our fathers toil with hands and heart
To make our lives complete.
They quietly brave the winter cold,
Endure the summer heat.

Our fathers' lives are busy, but
There's always time for us.
They boldly face the ups and downs
And seldom ever fuss.

Our fathers are the greatest dads.
We know you know this, too.
But thank you for the chance to share
Our love for them with you.

~Author and Copyrighted © by David A. Olds.~ 

A FATHER MEANS...


A Father means so many things...
A understanding heart,
A source of strength and of support
Right from the very start.
A constant readiness to help
In a kind and thoughtful way.
With encouragement and forgiveness
No matter what comes your way.
A special generosity and always affection, too
A Father means so many things
When he's a man like you...
~Author Unknown~

PLEASE DADDY, LET'S GO

A little girl with shining eyes,
Her upturned face aglow,
Said, "Daddy, it's almost time
For Sunday School, you know;
Let's go and hear of Jesus' love
Of how He died for all,
To take them to His home above
Who on His name will call."
"Oh no," said Daddy, "Not to-day;
I've worked hard all the week;
And I must have one day of rest,
And fishing's find they say;
So run along, don't bother me,
We'll go ANOTHER day."
Months and years have passed away,
But Daddy hears that plea no more--
"Let's go to Sunday School..."
Those childish days are o'er.
And now that Daddy's growing old,
And life is almost through,
He finds some time to go to church,
BUT, what does daughter do?
She says, "Oh, daddy, not to-day.
Was out almost all night;
I've got to get a little sleep:
Besides, I look a fright."
Then daddy lifts a trembling hand
To brush away the tears;
Again he hears that pleading voice,
Distinctly through the years,
He sees a small girl's upturned face,
Upturned with eyes aglow,
Saying, "It's time for Sunday School.
Please, daddy, won't you go?"

~Author Unknown~

A SIMPLE HUG

There's something in a simple hug
That always warms the heart;
It welcomes us back home
And makes it easier to part.

A hug is a way to share the joy
And sad times we go through,
Or just a way for friends to say
They like you 'cause you're you.

Hugs are meant for anyone
For whom we really care,
From your grandma to your neighbor,
Or a cuddly teddy bear.

A hug is an amazing thing --
It's just the perfect way
To show the love we're feeling
But can't find the words to say.

It's funny how a little hug
Makes everyone feel good;
In every place and language,
It's always understood.

And hugs don't need new equipment,
Special batteries or parts -
Just open up your arms
And open up your hearts.

~Author Unknown

The boss of a big company needed to call one of his employee about an urgent problem with one of the main computers.

He dialed the employee's home phone number and was greeted with a child's whispered, "Hello?" Feeling put out at the inconvenience of having to talk to a youngster, the boss asked, "Is your Daddy home?"

"Yes", whispered the small voice.

"May I talk with him?" the man asked.

To the surprise of the boss, the small voice whispered, "No."

Wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, "Is your Mommy there?"

"Yes," came the answer.

"May I talk with her?"

Again the small voice whispered, "No."

Knowing that it was not likely that a young child would be left home alone, the boss decided he would just leave a message with the person who should be there watching over the child.

"Is there any one there besides you?" the boss asked the child.

"Yes" whispered the child, "a policeman."

Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee's home, the boss asked, "May Ispeak with the policeman?"

"No, he's busy," whispered the child.

"Busy doing what?" asked the boss.

"Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the Fireman", came the whispered answer.

Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through the ear piece on the phone the boss asked, "What is that noise?"

"A hello-copper" answered the whispering voice.

"What is going on there?" asked the boss, now alarmed.

In an awed whispering voice the child answered, "The search team just landed the hello-copper."

Alarmed ,concerned, and more than just a little frustrated, the boss asked, "What are they searching for?"

Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle, "Me".

~Author Unknown

Father And Son Conversation

A father was having trouble getting his son to cut his long hair. When the boy asked to borrow the family car.

The father said, "You may borrow the car when you cut your hair."

Later that same evening the father passed by the son's room where he was stretched out on the bed reading the Bible.

He said, "Dad, did you know it says here that Jesus never cut his hair?"

His dad said, "Yes, son, and if you read further, you notice it says he walked everywhere he went."

~by Author Unknown~

I remember Daddy's hands folded silently in prayer,
And reaching out to hold me when I had a nightmare.

You could read quite a story in the calluses and lines.
Years of work and worry had left their mark behind.

I remember Daddy's hands, How they held my Mama tight,
And patted my back for something I'd done right.
There are things I've forgotten that I loved about that man,
But I'll always remember the love in Daddy's hands.

Daddy's hands, were soft and kind when I was crying.
Daddy's hands, were hard as steel when I'd done wrong.
Daddy's hands weren't always gentle,
But I've come to understand,
There was always love in Daddy's hands.

I remember Daddy's hands working till they bled,
Sacrificed unselfishly just to keep us all fed.
If I could do things over, I'd live my life again,
And never take for granted the love in Daddy's hands.

~Written & Performed by Holly Dunn~

When the good Lord was creating Fathers he started with a tall frame. And a female angel nearby said, "What kind of Father is that? If you're going to make children so close to the ground, why have you put fathers up so high? He won't be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping."

And God smiled and said, "Yes, but if I make him child size, who would children have to look up to?"

And when God made a Father's hands, they were large and sinewy. And the angel shook her head sadly and said, "Do you know what you're doing? Large hands are clumsy. They can't manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on pony tails or even remove splinters caused by baseball bats."

And God smiled and said, "I know, but they're large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day...yet small enough to cup a child's face in his hands."

And then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders. And the angel nearly had a heart attack. "Boy, this is the end of the week, all right," she clucked. "Do you realize you just made a Father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?"

And God smiled and said, "A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle, and hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus."

God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had every seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. "That's not fair. Do you honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?"

And God smiled and said, "They'll work. You'll see. They'll support a small child who wants to ride a horse to Ban bury Cross, or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill."

God worked throughout the night, giving the Father few words, but a firm authoritative voice; eyes that saw everything, but remained calm and tolerant. Finally, almost as an afterthought, he added tears. Then he turned to the angel and said, "Now, are you satisfied that he can love as much as a Mother?" The angel shut teth up.

"Children's children are the crown of old men, and the glory of children is their father." - Proverbs 17:7

~Erma Bombeck~

When I was a kid, a father was like the light in a refrigerator. Every house had one, but nobody knew what either of them did once the door was shut.

My dad left the house every morning and always seemed glad to see everyone at night.

He opened the jar of pickles when nobody else could.

He was the only one in the house who wasn't afraid to go to the basement by himself.

He cut himself shaving, but no one kissed it or got excited about it.

It was understood whenever it rained, he got the car and brought it around to the door.

When anyone was sick, he got the prescription filled.

He set mousetraps, cut back the roses so the thorns wouldn't clip you when you came to the front door.

When I got a bike, he ran alongside me for at least a thousand miles until I got the hang of it.

I was afraid of everyone else's father, but not my own. Once I made him tea. It was only sugar water, but he sat on a small chair and said it was delicious.

Whenever I played house, the mother doll had a lot to do. I never knew what to do withthe daddy doll, so I had him say, "I'm going off to work now," and threw him under the bed.

When I was nine years old, my father didn't get up one morning and go to work.

He went to the hospital and died the next day.

I went to my room and felt under my bed for the daddy doll. When I found him, I dusted him off and put him on my bed.

He never did anything - I didn't know his leaving would hurt so much. I still don't know why.

~Erma Bombeck~





FATHER'S ARE WONDERFUL PEOPLE

Fathers are wonderful people
Too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises
As often as we should...

For, somehow, Father seems to be
The man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts
And nurses all our ills...

And Father struggles daily
To live up to "his image"
As protector and provider
And "hero of the scrimmage"...

And perhaps that is the reason
We sometimes get the notion,
That Fathers are not subject
To the thing we call emotion,

But if you look inside Dad's heart,
Where no one else can see
You'll find he's sentimental
And as "soft" as he can be...

But he's so busy every day
In the grueling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff
To his partner and his wife...

But Fathers are just wonderful
In a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments
And accolades of praise,

For  the only reason Dad aspires To fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him
And to bring them happiness...

And like Our Heavenly Father,
He's a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on
To be always on our side.

~Helen Steiner Rice~

IN MY EYES

He's rough and lacks in etiquette,
Society would say.
He has no classy attributes,
To help him on his way.

He's not a fancy dresser,
And he's not so trimmed and neat.
With simple clothes and simple shoes,
He wears upon his feet.

He doesn't belong to a club,
Or drive a shiny car.
And when he takes vacations, He does not go very far.

He doesn't dine on fine cuisine,
To him fast food's a treat.
And he may use a plastic fork,
When it is time to eat.

He has a modest little house,
But has all that he needs.
He keeps his lawn cut nice and short,
He even trims his weeds.

He works long hours at his job,
To make an average pay.
And even if he's sick or tired,
He goes to work each day.

His job is just a factory job,
His pay just makes ends meet.
But, a few good friends and family,
Make his life complete.

He's not well versed in poetry,
Theater or the arts. And wisdom is not something,
That he constantly imparts.

He loves the simple things in life,
For riches doesn't thirst. He knows what is important,
And his family is put first.

The wealth that God has given him,
To treasure in his life.
A loving son and daughter,
And a very special wife.

He never has much money,
And his life is not a show.
But he is still the richest man,
That I will ever know.

To others he's a simple man,
And fame he's never had.
But he's the greatest man I know,
He also is my Dad.

~Author Unknown~

WHAT IS A DAD?

A Dad is a person
who is loving and kind,
And often he knows what you have on your mind.

He's someone who listens, suggests, and defends ~ A dad can be one
of your very best friends!

He's proud of your triumphs,
but when things go wrong, A dad can be patient and helpful and strong.

In all that you do,
a dad's love plays a part ~
There's always a place for him
deep in your heart.

And each year that passes, you're even more glad,
More grateful and proud just to call him your dad!

Thank you, Dad ...
for listening and caring,
for giving and sharing,
but, especially, for just being you!

Happy Father's Day

~by Author Unknown~

My Father

When I was ...

• Four years old: My daddy can do anything.

• Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.

• Six years old: My dad is smarter than your dad.

• Eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.

• Ten years old: In the olden days, when my dad grew up, things were sure different.

• Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He is too old to remember his childhood.

• Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.

• Twenty-one years old: Him? My Lord, he's hopelessly out of date.

• Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.

• Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask Dad what he thinks. After all, he's had a lot of experience.

• Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to Dad.

• Forty years old: I wonder how Dad would have handled it. He was so wise.

• Fifty years old: I'd give anything if Dad were here now so I could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.

~Author Unknown~

 FATHER'S DAY

When all the children have grown and gone,
Which memories of Father will linger on?
Will it be the times he dried their tears,
Held them close and calmed their fears?

The way he always found the time
To read their favorite nursery rhyme,
Over and over, time and time again,
Until they knew it, beginning to end.

The sleepless nights with an ailing child,
Father stays there all the while,
Ministering love with healing hands,
Spinning tales of faraway lands.

What memories will follow them as they go?
All of these, and more I know.
But most important, can they say, I had a Father who loved to pray . ~Author Unknown~ 

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