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Couplet Childhood Poems | Couplet Poems About Childhood

These Couplet Childhood poems are examples of Couplet poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Couplet Childhood poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Couplet | |



The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.

He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap

The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and  asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?

The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took

They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.

Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess

When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.

But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there

He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go

She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took

He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.

But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead

The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?

Copyright © Bob Quigley

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Footprints to Follow

Father’s bare feet left footprints in the sand
Young son followed, each step carefully planned

Tim wanted so much to be like his Dad
Always emulating, quite a sweet lad

So as you leave impressions on life’s shore
Remember your path will not be ignored

Tread gently, leave prints that make your kids proud
Step far away from the perilous crowd

Stop at times, build sandcastles, pick up shells
Memories can’t be erased by sea swells

Imprints on children’s hearts last forever
Keep this in mind through every endeavor

A child may be following your footsteps
Always make your marks with loving precepts

*Entry for Francine's "Barefoot" contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Couplet | |

She Calls Me Home

She Calls Me Home…

At days long end
Left on troubles shore
When I just know
I can't take anymore
When the last light
Of hope is gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

When my thoughts
Are racing round
And I can't find
A friend in this town
When every door
Has turned out wrong

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home

When the dark
Won't give up light
When the wrong
Outscores the right
When the noise
Outdoes the song

She calls me home
She calls me home

When the clouds
Won't seem to break
And the sky
Just seems to ache
And the sun's
Completely gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home

Copyright © James Burns

Details | Couplet | |

Kiddie's Corner

Good morning, good morning, girls and boys
I hope you brought your Disney toys

Gather round in a circle close
Lets sing about the ones we love the most

Mickey, Mickey, your so cute and small
We love you the best of all

Donald Duck with his ducklings three
Dressed the same are his family

     Children, children wave your hands
     Close you eyes we're in Disney Land

Pluto, Pluto your silly and daft
You sure do make us laugh

It's time to count, lets have some fun
The Seven Dwarfs, seven back to one

     Children, children wave your hands
     Close you eyes we're in Disney Land

Dumbo flaps his ears and flies
Pinocchio's nose grows telling silly lies

Let all skip to Wonderland
Holding Alice's hands, going hand in hand

     Children, children wave your hands
     Close you eyes we're in Disney Land

     Children, children wave your hands
     Close you eyes we're in Disney Land

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Couplet | |

What do you think of me now

       What do you
think of me now?

I hear you say what
a brat I am and how
I made you do it
the hits, the hurts,
the names you called
me-well, I lived
through it
When you came into
my room at night I
prayed I would
 but things have
changed a lot since
then, here’s
something you should

I carried my
troubles in a shirt
pocket that covered
my heart for years 
but now I share all
of my burdens to
alleviate my fears
I spent my life
feeling full of
shame but now I know
the truth
And your words that
used to sting so
quick are quite
suddenly mute 

I see with more than
eyes today and hear
with more than ears
I’ve learned that
bravery can be heard
in soft cries and
falling tears
I don’t pretend to
not need anyone
anymore, today I
know that I do 
I still struggle
with asking others
for help, my silence
I learned from you

I know I’m not those
names you called me,
I’m kind and funny
and smart
 A sweet little
girl, a beautiful
woman- with a
convalescing heart
I’m curiously
optimistic about the
life I choose to
You see I’m no
longer tortured by
revenge or aching

I dream as if dreams
aren’t silly at all
and hope to make a
I won’t let anyone
tell me who I am
anymore, so I offer
you my forgiveness
I don’t know where
you ended up or if
you found your way
but if you hear me
read this poem I’d
like to hear you say
-what do you think
of me now.

Copyright © Christine Costello

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A Child's View of Death

A Child’s View of Death

People say now that Grandpa was thin
But he had plump cheeks; cancer had set in 

Each Sunday penny candy in my hand he’d place
And with rugged hands he’d embrace my face

To an impetuous toddler, his cigars smelled foul
But I don’t remember him ever sporting a scowl

On the way to mass my hand he’d squeeze
And no one ever mentioned his disease

But I’ll not forget the way mama cried
When she hugged me and said Grandpa had died

Though yellow tulips bloomed outside
I entered that parlor where emotions ran high

Grandpa looked peaceful, like he was asleep
I walked softly toward him, not making a peep

Where was that smile I’d come to expect
Not one movement could I detect

It can cause harm taking preschoolers to funerals
Death viewings can be the most frightening rituals

Fear lingered for months as I dreamt of him
Lying in a coffin, his skin cold and face grim

Children should remember those who have passed
Alive and happy, the way they’d seen them last

A fear of death plagued me for many years
I couldn’t accept that good people disappear

From our lives, to be buried in the ground
In thoughts of this loss, my spirits drowned

It wasn’t till later I realized the eternal life of souls
And that in both forms of life, we each have our roles

Be sure to tell little ones of God’s special home
And how our deceased loved ones sit by His throne

In coming to terms with this revelation
I learned to see death as a new life’s creation

*For Lay's "Darkest Childhood Memory" Challenge

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Couplet | |

Dutch Hill Park

I took a walk down Columbia Street
Back to the place where we used to meet
Where we played as kids until after dark
And hung out together up at Dutch Hill Park
Although alone, I could hear the sound
Of laughter coming from the merry go round
Sometimes we'd meet there in the early dawn
The dance hall, pavilion and the swings are gone
I saw those pine trees and I thought of you
And all the crazy things we used to do
Like sleeping out underneath the stars
Hanging upside down from the monkey bars
A swing made from  a rope and an old tire
We baked potatoes on an open fire
Squirrel nut zippers and an RC coke
Transistor radio and we'd have a smoke
We walked in the woods and we climbed some trees
We scratched our faces and we skinned our knees
Never dreaming that it would ever end
If I could, I'd do it all again my friend
Those memories I have will never part
I carry Dutch Hill Park inside my heart
And all those memories of yesteryear
Heading back home now I shed a tear.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

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There was a time

The pendulum motions to and fro,
From the clock upon the wall.
As the second ebb like grains of sand,
For one by one they fall.

Through the window of the dim lit room,
For outside, lies a world of grey,
For thoughts now turn to yester year,
That seems so far away.

With freckle on skin and golden hair,
Topped with lace like bonnet fair.
Upon a face a smile of glee,
As little feet splash in the sea.

A bucket clenched in fingers tight,
With spade to match its colors bright.
 In awe and wonder of many things,
 Through eyes so young that new life brings.

  N  Windle.   MMXI.

Copyright © nicholas windle

Details | Couplet | |

Paper Dreams

I built a paper sail boat to take me out to see;
What lies beyond the setting sun in lands across the sea.

The boats a smaller replica of the big one that I'll make,
to hold all of my fantasies and a dozen chocolate cakes.

I chose my hamster, Freddy, as the captain, but I think...
He's overly excited or had too much to drink..

Either way - he's off, oh, look at Fred, he's having so much fun.
"Good bye my friend, I'll see you when we meet the setting sun".

But, as I wave my last farewell , my smile turns to a frown,
As I watch poor Fred, bailing water, as his mighty ship goes down.

So, heed my tale adventures, please heed what I just wrote,
Don't sail away on paper dreams 'cause paper dreams don't float.

Keep your feet on solid ground and if you you choose to sail,
Remember Fred, I fear he's dead, 'cause he forgot the pail.

Copyright © Randy Biffany

Details | Couplet | |

The Blessings of Grandfathers Beautiful Lies

Impressionable young hearts do tell the grandest lies
When learned from grandfathers with sparkling eyes
Grandfathers living renewed through the breath of a grandchild

Oh grandfathers’ whoppers told in all kindness and glory
The bigger the whopper makes the child’s lies the cute little story
Thus the grandchild’s faith breeching walls of reasonable reality 
Simply because beloved grandfather had told the story
My grandfather said it was so- tiny voice of pledged belief
And I believe him -for grandfather would never lie to me

So sleep little one- dream the telling’s of funny grandfathers beloved
For their little lies to you are meant to not make you a worried
But make you believe in the impossibilities of grandeur and extravagance 
There is a Santa Clause
The fish really was so big it couldn’t fit in the boat
I wrestled a grizzly when I was just about your age

For in the telling of such blessed little lies
A remembrance of grandfather will never die
The wisdom and laughter thus remembered in each time’s telling
Will warm you over and over- as little lies do you begin the telling 

Copyright © Mark Goodson

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I was young and innocent and I only had eyes for you You were my constant companion the whole day through But you fell into a puddle and mum hurried you away I was oh so sad, I cried and cried so much that day I found you hiding from me, high up on the washing line Pegged up by your ears, but my teddy now looked fine When I look through old photos its plain for all to see ‘Lying on teddy’ you really meant the world to me 21st June 2015 Penned after looking through old photos of me from aged about two My teddy bear was called lying on teddy because I used to lie on him in my sleep and he went from a cuddly round bear to a flat bear

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

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Willy the Wasp For Jan Allison

Willy the Wasp

There once was a wasp whose name was Willy

And some people thought he was really silly

Fluttering in between each humming bird feeder

Thinking his food was measured by a meter.

here were some things unbeknownst to me

Where would Willy the Wasp possibly be

Some say after he had heard nature calling

He started playing around with all the pollen.

Willy would distribute it here and there

Ended up all over the place and everywhere

All of his efforts had made much more room

For the nice fragrant flowers to start to bloom.

After all of Willy's history I further did inspect

He helps keeping control of a certain insect

And if you like me often find yourself frugal

You can go get your answers by going on Google.

Copyright © James Horn

Details | Couplet | |

Eyes of a Child

Looking all around me and becoming more aware,
Of the people and surroundings at which many children stare.

I come to terms and realize the acts of hate I see,
And now I fear that this same scene will soon envelope me.

Walking on a lonesome road, though crowded it may seem,
I pass through silent hordes of people hushing silent screams.

Beside me standing hand-in-hand, older man and wife,
I wonder if they thought like me, what happened to their life.

I reminisce now further back before these broken days,
A time of wasting food and drink and dressing different ways.

But now we all look just alike in tattered grays and browns,
Drifting through these damaged streets and sporting matching frowns.

I thought we'd left the two world wars and poverty behind,
To linger in our broken books and fill an older time.

A time where death would cloud the world with sorrow and disease,
And fear would plant itself within the innocent with ease.

This made me think and look around for Noah and his arc,
And for the first time since the night I heard a flustered lark.

I quickly turned around to spot within a child's hands,
An injured bird whose time had brought it here from other lands.

The child stole a piece of thread from a redbreast robin's nest,
And wrapped around the ailing bird a splint so it could rest.

An hour past the lark took flight and answered to the wild;
The only resting place of hope is in the bright eyes of a child.

Copyright © Elaine Ho

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Those Thoughts (extended version)

Nightmares, shame, and despair---
You don't go anywhere.
All alone in your mind
even with someone by your side.

You think, "Why can't everyone just leave me alone?"
You thought the hint would be cutting off the phone.
But everyone wants you to release your cares.
The next thing you do is frown and ask, "Where?"

Stinkin' thinkin' is what your mom calls it.
Bad thoughts falling down a bottomless pit.
You wake up hoping those feelings disappear;
but, as usual they end up going nowhere.

You can't seem to get rid of the pain
and in your heart an eternal rain.
No one really knows how you feel
and you have friends that always ask, "What the deal?"

But tomorrow always comes.
Bad days for you, but good for some.
Disparaging words flow in and out of your head.
You're alive but you're living like you're dead!

They're like cobwebs in your mind
that you can't seen to bind.
The hurt is always there
which has always been your fear.

You don't see the destruction your thoughts have created.
Yet relationships were destroyed with the people you've dated.
You allowed your pain to take away time.
Your anger towards others has become the real crime.

It all boils down to that one thing in your past.
A terrible time that from your mind you've yet to cast.
The pain from the physical and spiritual rape
that rolled around in your head like an old videotape.

The abuser was like a father to you
and when it first happened there was nothing you could do.
You felt trapped like you could go nowhere.
His power over you was to instill that fear.

The "fear" is what's wrong
and you must discover another heart song.
Up to this point life hasn't been the best.
Maybe letting go of this is the next test.

There has always been someone that has loved you.
Someone who is capable of taking you through.
He's a Friend that sticks closer than a brother,
Jesus--- a Savior like no other!

If you don't give it to Him so you can thrive
you will plummet to the depths and never survive.

Copyright © Brandee Augustus

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Past, Present, Future

I lived a life of sorrow and pain
     No rest for the weak, no hope of gain

A trapped soul and broken heart
     A lack of love from the start

A spark of hope hastily smothered
     A glimpse of light quickly covered

No choice in life but to cower in fear
     Forced to sit and drown in my tears

"Don't make a sound and don't talk back
     Do what you're told. Don't give us flack!"

I sink deeper in a pit of despair
     I cry inside, "this isn't fair!"

Then water couldn't dowse, sand couldn't smother
     A certain spark of truth in another

When the truth came out and the culprit was caught
     We finally let go of the lies we were taught

I escaped a life of lies and deceit
     Now it's up to me to stand on my feet

Now I start over... let go of the past
     A new life is mine... the old, outcast

Now I smile as joy floods my soul
     I know happiness now and my life feels whole

I've let go of my past. It's over and done
     But my future is bright like the shinning sun

Copyright © Eleonore Husted

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Kids, Let's Take a Trip

"I like nonsense, it wakes the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living."

        I don't like up. I'm going down.
        My parachute--a flannel gown.

        I float along and soon I see
        the Scarecrow. Now there's Dorothy!

        There's Alice, riding Scooby Dooo.
        I love reality. Don't you?

        I wave at Tarzan on a vine.
        With Lion King he soon will dine.

        Beside me now is Seuss's cat
        demanding I return his hat!

        Hey, Cinderella, here's your shoe.
        I told the Prince it fits me too.

        The Beauty and her Beast fly through.   
        I crave reality. Don't you?

        Such characters do crowd my head.
        Good night. Alas! It's time for bed.        

        Tonight in sleep, I wish to see
        a fairy floating down with me.

Copyright © Janice Canerdy

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The Great White Pumpkin

The Great White Pumpkin
     By Dane Smith-Johnsen

Ghostly Pumpkin dull and white 
Plans to give a ghastly fright.
Rough and tough his wrinkled skin
Mesmerizing twenty men.

Soon “Big Buddy” comes around.
Cuts a circle in his crown.
Jagged teeth and fearsome smile
Eyes and eyebrows carved in style.

Tasty innards scraped right out.
“Where's my nose?”  White Pumpkin shouts!
Come on partner night grows dark.
Time to start the candle's spark.

Glowing eyes on front porch steps
Watch young goblins full of pep.
“Trick-or-Treat” the children chime.
Great White Pumpkin sings in time.

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

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Washed Away

Dont despair that I dont miss you
  want to hold you
wait to kiss you
  I cant see you , I can feel you
with a heart line I can reel you
   Right back in just like the River
HOMOSASSA taker, giver
   In some light you flow beside me
seek to steer me, move me, guide me
    To a place I cant remember
Like a glowing, dying ember

    Of a time I cant recall 
But I know you have it all
     Saved on waves of long ago
Washed up somewhere I cant know
     Where each tide must rise and fall
Some Lagoon where nightbirds call
     Everyone sits 'round the glow
Waiting for someone to know
     How to read the map to find me
Even I am left behind me.

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren

Details | Couplet | |

Beyond The Gates

Behind these gates lay quite the scene
So very surreal, yet not a dream

Beautiful headstones, manicured lawns
My God the memories this place spawns 

The winding road, first turn to the right
Back to the beginning of my plight

Stopping next to the second trail
My heart and head pound like hell

On the left eleven headstones away
Like a movie my memory starts to play

People gathered from all around
My mother knew everyone in town

At the time I was still unable to speak
My shattered psyche was far too weak

I stood there broken and full of fear
Ashamed I could shed not a single tear

Ashamed I could speak not a single word
Inside my head so many voices heard

What did those voices have too say
That’s another story for another day

Those gates now hold so many I love
Everyone I once held above

Last time I entered them I was 32
Even though those gates hold all of you

Next month I’ll go back and explain why
Tell my mother the reason I couldn’t cry

Apologize to her for being broken
Leave flowers, a poem, and my N.A. token

That way she will know without any doubt
What her little boy ended up being all about

That her little boy is not broken anymore
Overcoming adversity is what adversity is for

And one day when I’ve completed my fate
I’ll be looking for her, “Beyond the Gate”

The Shafter, California cemetery holds my mother, Grandparents, my cousin James and many
close friends. The last time I visited them was approx. 18 years ago. It’s very strange
that I received, “Beyond the Gates” as my topic, because; I’ve been planning this trip for
months now. If not for that fact I would have most likely written this poem about prison
gates. I reckon all things happen for a reason. Thank you Constance writing this poem has
given me strength to help me do what I plan to do. Go make amends to the person who gave
me life and taught me the things, which stuck with me through it all. My Grandparents
never lost hope in me and always said, "One day Mikey will remember the things we taught
him and return to the Lord." I think they will be proud of the man who comes to visit them
next month.

Copyright © Michael Jordan

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Myrtle the Turtle

Myrtle the Turtle

There once was a turtle named Myrtle.
She could speed through a maze and climb a hurdle.

While she was small, she was a friend to all.
And remained safe from a kitchen overhaul.

Years passed as she raced for many children.
Through mazes designed in childlike fashion.

Lined up building blocks, her corridor defined.
Faster than all the others, her speediness shined.

She heard cheering children as she plodded fast.
Quicker than lightening our childhood flew past.

Playing on the floor so much laughter roaring.
A turtle named Myrtle beget years of adoring.

But then the day came when she was big and fat.
Myrtle somehow disappeared; imagine that!

Fear and distraught brought a terrible rouse.
Frantically we searched running house to house.

Never discovered though we searched with quickstep.
Three children sat crying on their front porch step.

We thought she had been taken to become turtle soup!
It was a devastating day for the turtle-loving group.

Surprisingly, later, in a nearby pond 
Where a neighborhood boy with our playmate did abscond.

We saw Myrtle, our turtle, and her baby turtles, too.
She had escaped turtle soup and made freedom's debut.

© August 3, 2010
Dane Smith-Johnsen

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

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The Tomboy

I was fascinated by frogs, dinosaurs, and outer space.
Comic books, video games, and fast cars to race.

I got my clean clothes dirty and skinned my knees.
I spent my afternoons climbing high up in the trees.

Came home from the playground with shoes full of sand.
Went fishing, and held up my catch with my bare hand.

I would get on my rusty, blue bike and ride to the park.
Where we played games of tag or catch almost until dark.

After school, I would go play baseball with the boys.
Then, stay up late, listening to music and make noise.

My homework sat in my backpack and never got done.
I was too preoccupied with finding adventure and having fun.

I was the tomboy that liked building Lego block walls.
I was also a girl who played with pretty Barbie dolls.

Richard Lamoureux's Gender Bender Contest

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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Dear Rapunzel

It seems ages since we met over your long, golden hair
an hour glass on the table keeping the meter.

It seems like too many dress up doll days when we played
take me to the river but don’t get our feet wet.

It seems we lost our inner selves painting our faces
painting our nails, singing karaoke at the bars.

Oh, to regain those lost years of our youth, unwrinkled skin
turn back all the pages, like winding gold on a spindle.

Instead we have just leaves, grieves, and grandchildren
with their laser guns, plastic skin and smug attitudes.

They never challenged gamey little midgets with foul intent
they had us to pad them safely with money, love and scent.

Dear Rapunzel, do please let your hair down one more time
and play climb out of the cellar and up the apple tree with me.

Signed Your Dearest Play Mate.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper

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Child once more

Wouldn't it be wonderful to wake up one morning
To find you were still a child
So much energy jumping up and down upon your bed
So many wonders and thoughts swirling through your bed
No responsibilities
Just fun and play with your dolls or swinging in the trees
Getting a dose of the measles having a poorly on your knee
looking at a catalogue at all the toys
Building a den and playing cowboys and Indians
With the other girls and boys
Dressing up in mummies clothes
catching frogs and picking your nose
Rolling down grassy hills and knowls
Going for summer walks with a bottle of lemonade
Pretending you are a solider standing on parade
Watching cartoons all day on TV
Having a pet to love and feed
Giving your teddy bear a hug
Collecting crawly things like slugs and bugs
Having a big bag of sweets giving a high five to every child that you meet
Having an imaginary friend called Fred
Bed time stories in your Jim Jams in bed
Pretending to be a pirate out at sea
Seeing strange faces in every tree
Licking the cake bowl after mummy makes a cake
Riding on your bicycle or on your roller skates
Reading books under the covers with a torch at night
Playing football flying a kite
Dreaming of becoming an astronaut a fireman and scientist too
having a great day out at the zoo
Playing children's games calling out rude names
Playing in the wood getting up to no good
Getting head Lice in your hair
Sitting in a high chair
Dancing like a loony at a party
Hating girls yuk! with their ribbons and their curls
Doctor Who Winnie the poo Sponge Bob
Larry the Lamb and Batman
and now I'm Superman!
Train set that gives your Farther who bough it  for you so much joy
Pink for a girl and blue for a boy
playing on the swings and slide
Bucket and spade making sand castles at the seaside
Everyone saying 'awe aren't you sweet'
Coco pops egg and toast soldiers to eat
Balloons floating high into the sky
your older sister hitting you and making you cry
Sitting on your potty
pacifier in your mouth
'Mummy I've done a poo'you shout
'Good boy I'll lift you out.
sitting in your pram Being pushed everywhere by your Mam
Going on a bus singing a little song
looking out the window and sticking out your tongue
Digging in the garden eating worms and soil
Having earache Pouring in olive oil
playing with your rubber duck and battleship
while your in the bath
reading your favourite comics and having a laugh
Asking lots of questions your parents find hard to answer
'Where do babies come from?' Having your leg in plaster
playing in the school yard playing hide and seek
Being poorly every week
new shoes happy feet holding mommy's hand and skipping down the street
Watching the fish swim around your fish tank
Putting pennies in your piggy bank
Ooh how my dipper must have stank
Ice cream and jelly tots uhhm I used to scoff the lot
playing a tree in a school play
Packing a suitcase and running away
throwing pebbles in a pond all day long.

Phew I'm shattered after al that. imagine doing all that now. the mere thought 
tires me out.

Peter Dome.copyright.2014.July.

Copyright © Peter Dome

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Magic Beans

Enchanted magic beans,
They were always enchanted to me.
Worth their weight in gold,
They never ever got old.
Some people would complain,
Some would look at them with disdain,
But magic beans meant the world to me,
They brought me warmth and satiety.
When you were of little means,
Your mind had to spark with creativity.
You could not always expect the next best thing,
Avoiding magic beans like a bee sting.
My mom would bring home our magic beans,
She would then drop them into the swirling seas.
She stirred them in a cauldron boiling hot,
I then waited for my sustenance cooking in the pot.  
Today I still gather magic beans,
Even though I am no longer of little means.
The happy memories come flooding back,
As I pour magic beans from their overflowing sack.  

January 16, 2015
Ed Belcher 

Copyright © Ed Belcher

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What they didn't tell her about Fairy tales

They told me from the time I was two
“One day prince charming is coming for you!”

They made me read these inspiring fairy tales
About mermaids, evil step mothers and 
servants whose childhoods were unfair,

They told me that even if I was troubled and had to put up with a lot,
That someday my adversaries would have to surrender
to me and scrub my pots,

They told me I wasn’t alone; animals would be my friend
So I tried that, then one night they bit me, 
I suffered another tragic end

They said to always be kind-hearted that’s what all man want,
When I got into high school I found out no one wanted to talk to the fat girl in the corner who ate chocolate glazed croissants 

They told me to find seven dwarfs, a crew of little people
My school only had four of them 
Their names were; scuba, geek freak, muffin top and meatball

In eleventh grade they said, "ask God for a fairy godmother to get a dress for the prom"
I went to a Catholic Church, got one for 75 cents, 
with red stripes and one missing arm

They said after graduation the wise thing to do would be to go to college 
and Not rush into getting married
So I got knocked up my senior year by the school janitor,
His name is "Prince Larry!"

I dropped out a month before school ended and you’ll never guess where I reside
I am currently employed doing Disney parties, where I get to dress up as all the great characters who told me those fabulous lies.
Got to Love fairy tales…

By: Sabina Nicole

Copyright © Sabina Nicole

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Not Like We Did

Not Like We Did

Sometimes I wonder about the good old days
Growing up and parting ways
Sometimes wish I could have stayed a kid	
They have good times now but not like we did
Painting ghosts on store fronts for Halloween
Stop at Mike's and play the pinball machine
Go for lunch down old Broad Street
Get a hamburger from Texas Pete
Friday dances in the gym at Saint Jerome
Stop at the bowling alley before going home
In the Vic is where I first got kissed
At the Coffee Cup, we did the Twist
The Coney Island and the S and A
Stopped at the pool room almost every day
Behind the Acme lot there was a circus show
Swim in the summer time at the Bungalow
Stop at the station waiting for the train
Deliver the Courier in the pouring rain
Watch a parade on Decoration Day
Flowers for Mary during the month of May
Little income but we were all well fed
Danny sold Italian bread
Back porch picnics and we played wiffle ball
Free movies in Middle Ward park, we had it all
Church picnics at Dutch Hill Park
Play in the street until well after dark
Small man thrived, a living earned
Tamaqua was where we grew and learned.
We had sports heroes when I was a kid
They have heroes now, but not like we did
Stadium was filled for the football game
Basketball season, the town did the same
Roller skating on center Street
Stop at the Five Points to get a bite to eat
I look back and my memory thrives
So many good people have touched our lives

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

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Mr Inquisitive

Could a scythe cut a slice
from a sycamore tree?
If a bird had no feathers
what bird would it be?
If a square had three corners
would it still be a square?
Will your curls always swirl
if you tug at your hair?

My curls will always swirl
For questions make them so
You will question me ‘why’
when my answer is ‘no’.
If I answer you  ‘yes’
You will question with ‘how’
If a tree could grow knowledge
I'd reach for a bough.

Copyright © Michelle Mac Donald

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The Art of Listening

I was read to as a child,every night at bed
Fairy tales, short stories, prose, or poems is what was read
Beatrix Potter, Mother Goose, Childcraft books were chose
But my favorite things to listen to were poetry and prose

I learned these things all by heart knew,when to turn the page
Mom thought I could read quite young ,was advanced for my age
But I was a fooler to those around ,cause I would memorize
Each page that was read to me, my reading was just lies.

I was fortunate to have a Mom that was well versed in liberal arts
I was read all sorts of things and would recite different parts
I listened to many poems from Percy,Keats,Frost and Thoreau.             
Wordsworth,Longfellow, Lord Byron sometimes we wouldn't know.

When a child is read to when very young they get well versed in rhyme.
Then writing them as they age is something that fills their time. 

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver

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Lessons Learned

My grandson asked if back when I was young
I had ever done anything naughty or wrong
I said shut the door put on listening ears
And Ill tell you a tale of rank shivering fear
One night at midnight I sneaked from my bed
To a neigr knocker fastened a thread
Old Mrs. Murphy, ninety and living all alone
That she was a witch was really well known
I pulled the string and the knocker did bang
Then over the garden wall lithely I sprang
When the old woman limped to the door
Finding nobody there she ranted and swore
Again and again I pulled that on the thread
As over and over tears of laughter I shed

Then the moon clouded and all turned dark
A cold hand of fear icily fingered my heart
A voice rasped lowly filling me with dread 
‘I’ve got you now and soon you’ll be dead’
I was then dragged to Mrs. Murphy’s door
Feeling more terrified than ever before
The door was opened I was pushed inside
Nowhere I could run nowhere I could hide
There in the kitchen the old woman sat
Black cloak and hair, black teeth and hat
Our neighbour then sat me down on a chair
The witch held me still with malevolent stare
Pointing long sharp nailed finger I felt the spell
As she spoke of hot flames and rotting in hell

I promised to be good and meant it sincerely
I’ve been good ever since, well almost, nearly

(5th in contest,’Childhood memories’ by Crystal Wilkins)

Copyright © Eamon Duffin

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Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs