Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


CreationEarth Nature Photos

Love Nostalgia Poems | Love Poems About Nostalgia

These Love Nostalgia poems are examples of Love poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Love Nostalgia poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

I Think Of You - At The Edge - 3


A reflection of the coloured pencil drawn sky
skates on the glass smooth surface below it.
While a rebellious group of shades take their positions 
on a glorious stage to express themselves artistically and
I...

i think of you

Wisps of clouds shaped like a palm leaf
fan the winds that stoke the fire
of a randomly sketched sunset.
I...

i think of you

The cool of an ocean breeze 
travels the shadows of this low lit evening.
Caresses my skin like the essence of romance.
Enthralled by the allure of a candle lit sky,
I...

i think of you...

Our French Bakery early mornings.
Café au lait and croissants.
Our freesia soaked baths.
Your mink soft body.
Its milk and honey scent.

As I fall off 
the edge of the world,
I...

i think of you.




March 19 2015
Armand




Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

Details | Shape | |

Spring Bud

                                
                                 
                                  
                                 
                                
                                 My 
                               breath
                          shivers under  
                       a rug of loneliness,
                    a sleepy heart huddles
                   against such memories 
                 of togetherness and not of 
               goodbyes, hating to disperse 
               the fiery rhymes of your lips, 
                as well as the warmth of its 
                 sweat...tastes like red wine, 
                   then it beats...and beats
                     gently, as it envisions
                          you, in an early
                                misty
                                   s
                                  p
                                r
                               i
                              n
                            g





Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ballad | |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….


Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative | |

Will You Tie My Shoes When I Grow Old

You were beautiful, 
my tiny child, 
wrapped tightly in my arms, 
close to my heart.
I listened to you breathing.
I counted your fingers
and your toes.
Helpless, 
you cried out to me
and I loved you
with every ounce of my soul.

Will you hear me
when I cry out? 
Will you hold me close
as I held you then? 

I remember the day
You took your first step.
There was no stopping you.
Your feet gave you freedom
to explore the world
like never before
but danger lurked.
I opened those doors anyway, 
cautiously, 
and introduced
you to the world.
Where will you be
when my legs
no longer run? 
no longer work? 
Will you realize
that I love
freedom too? 

I laugh
about that day
you first tied your shoe.
We tried and tried
to get that rabbit
in that hole
and you finally did it.
You pointed your toes
for everyone to see
how proud you were.

I am proud too, 
of my writing
and my drawing, 
of my needlework
and my cooking.
But my hands are beginning to ache
and my fingers will not bend.
I will lose the things
that make me proud
except for you.
Hopefully not you.
Will you let me
brag on you? 
Even tell wild stories
that are a bit beyond the truth? 
Will you be proud of me too? 

I waved good-bye
that morning when you left
on that large, yellow bus.
I was so scared.
I know you were too.
You waved at me bravely
through the dusty window
but I saw the water
forming in your eyes.
You came home, however, 
full of pride and joy.
You sang the alphabet song
and got most of it right.
You practiced for hours
until you could sing it
even in your sleep.

But 
I'm afraid.
I forgot
whether I took
my pills today or not.
I forgot
if I told this story before.
I even forgot once
who you were
and it terrified me.
My mind
is my treasure
the only thing I have left, 
and I heard you make
fun of me
for not remembering
that I gave you the
same gift as last year.
Will you love me
when I no longer
know who I am? 

You came home blushing
from the glow of
your first kiss.
Your first love, 
the one you thought was real.
You talked about him non-stop.
You changed for him. You gave.
But he left you anyway
for a blue-eyed girl
and I held you
while you cried for him.

I too have a
broken heart.
The love of my life
left me after
fifty-six years.
He left me here
to live life on my own
while he moved on
to another realm
And I cry for him too.
I long for his shoulder
and strong embrace.
I feel betrayed
because he and I
made a deal
that we would never
leave the other alone.
Yet I am alone
sitting in an echoing house
with no hands to hold.

You welcomed her home today- 
your tiny baby girl.
She has your eyes
and possibly your toes.
I see you counting them
as they roll me
into the room.
You finally came
to visit.
It has been a while.

You look up at me
with tears in your eyes
and ask
almost desperately, 

"Will she tie my
shoes
when I get old? "

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism | |

A Rose In The Heather.

So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,

So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,

Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,

Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of 
chance,
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing, 
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,     
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2006

Details | Personification | |

Umbrella

There she stands 
Centre stage for all to see
Tall and slender 
Precariously she balances.

I reach out for her
Draw her to me 
My hand skims her body 
Slowly reaching her skirt.

Playful fingers find hidden areas
Delighted her legs spring forth
Displaying the very beauty
Of her delicately adorned skirt.

Gaily she dances around
Dizzily twisting and turning
In the brightness of day shading
She gently tends to my needs.

Personal ballerina takes to toes leaping
Merrily bobbing up and down
As emotional to her performance
Clouds cry a thousand tears for her.

Reaching our destination
Slightly shaken, she leans
Watches me quietly drips
Against the wall.

Reminiscent of the day's fulfillment
We acknowledge one another silently
Restful knowing we shall be
One once more.

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2008

Details | Senryu | |

carved on a willow

carved on a willow
our love growing out of reach

Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse | |

These ribbons I tie as you leave

Blue – 
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.

Red – 
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
evaporating 
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.


Orange – 
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
Iridium. 
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone. 

Green – 
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs 
like dandelion seeds blown from 
My wistful lips when I was 
eleven 
waiting for them to bring back my wish.

Black – 
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from 
your father’s funeral.  

It was the only time I watched you cry.

There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through 
their watery colored reflections.


Pink – 
for the way your skin repels from my 
Touch, quivers as though my finger- 
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.

Purple – 
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss. 

You left her waitng..always.

I have been special to you,
she replies to your
overtures.

Her letters 
Who blush
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.

White – 
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.

They spit 
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.

My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.

We will divide our booty

Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold 
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.

Grey- 
for the morning 
now knocking on my window.

I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
in
the tangle of these vacant sheets. 



Copyright © Jennifer Brooks | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme | |

Missing My Little Boys

My babies have all gone,
They've grown and left the nest,
Spreading out their wings to fly,
Upon life's thrilling quest.

The years flew by so quickly.
Babies turned into little boys.
Little boys grew into manhood,
Putting away their childish toys.

I miss those little boy faces,
With their mischievous, winsome smiles.
I miss their childish chatter,
And their creative little boy wiles.

Why didn't I pay more attention?
Why didn't I play with them more?
Why didn't I realize how fleeting time was?
But I didn't and it makes my heart sore.

I miss the little boys that my sons were,
But I'm proud of the men they've become.
They'll always be my little boys,
And I will always love them.

Kim Merryman    3/10/12
Entered in SKAT's "Greatly Missed" contest

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Farewell

                      If I forget you, would you remember me?
                       If I still love you, would you still love me?
                      
                      If I fall when old, would you lift me up?
                       If I sleep, would you sleep by me?
                      
                          If I run away, would you follow me?
                       But If I stay, would you stay with me?
                     
                        If I see you, would you recognize me?
                               I know you would Not.
                        
                           That is why, I wish I would whisper 
                               And not hear myself. 
                         
                                   I wish I could cry 
                                   not feel my tears
                                    nor feel my fears.
                               Tonight, my final Farewell.
                  
                                     Therese Bacha
                                     24 August 2014

Copyright © Therese Bacha | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Cobalt Summer

Down there, on the shell-coarse beach in a furnace of sand The sea writhed and almost boiled at the shore, Barefoot we walked, with her hand in my hand No girl had ever driven me more. She dry-licked her cherry lips and saltily smiled, Solar flares bursting there in my chest, The way she moved always drove me wild, My eyes entranced by her shape in that dress. The sun stamped in the sky like a chromium plate, Dripped the colours of butter and steel, And she stood there the most, the coolest hot date, So radiant and still and surreal. When she threw back her head as she lay on the grass Liquid eyes burning silver and green, With the parting of lips she gave me a free pass And the world dissolved to aquamarine.

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric | |

When Love Was Innocent

Sing for me the sweetest song of love when life was still so young. Those tender times and days devoid of cares and wants troubling the old, when smiles and laughter ruled the day, when worries passed and did not stay. Strum so softly your guitar just like the nights along the shore when music meant the world to us and dreams were spun with so much fun. With nary a thought to hindrances, and silence in between did not mean sadness. Sketch the image once again of all our hopes and aspirations. Paintbrush, our imaginations that fueled all our conversations. Let the canvas capture the moment when each one’s triumph was heaven sent. With words of wonder I will write of every look and all the sighs, of every throbbing thud within our hearts that sometimes drown the din. Still, we aimed our sight so high a desire defined by what’s ideal... When life was young, and love was innocent.
16 May 2015 Kim Patrice Nunez When Love Was Innocent Contest

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse | |

Love's Amnesia

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like,
When you hug someone you love and instantly your knees get weak….

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like,
When someone whom you truly love looks deeps into your eyes and
Suddenly the rest of the world disappears….

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like
when someone you love kisses you on your lips and
suddenly you feel butterflies creeping in your stomach…

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like,
Getting intimate with someone and wishing it would never end
Wanting more…..

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like,
Being in love…

I’d almost forgotten what it feels like putting my feelings on paper
Until I remembered what it feels like Loving you…..

Dedicated to My Soul Mate....

Copyright © Marlies Agdomar | Year Posted 2010

Details | Couplet | |

If You Are The Ocean...

If you are the ocean, then I am the mist
which kisses the morning the way children kissed
their mother at breakfast to start a new day
If you are the ocean, then anchors aweigh
We'll sail through the evening and on to the light
The daystar is dawning, we'll keep to the right
like Peter and Wendy to Neverlands' door
we'll sail on forever and touch every shore
If you are the ocean, come wash me away
to some misty morning and there we will play
on beaches you've loved all your lovely life long
If you are the ocean, then sing me a song
of sailors and treasures and I'll have to say
If you are the ocean, come wash me away...

Copyright © Johnette Loefgren | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

Revive the Breakage

High upon the highest heights I see the most tremulous sight A small girl, fair and tranquil Smiling strangely, sitting still Beneath a sobbing willow tree She recites a verse upon her knee She sings a rhythmic hymn Not of death, nothing grim But prays that life will return Even for those who are doomed to burn The girl is a woman now Beneath the tree and upon the cloud She whispers, “I am watching you” Why then are you so blue? A single tear of sadness and joy Rejuvenate the quirky earthly boy Who sits down beneath the blooming tree Listening to her silent voice attentively She reminds him she was once young too That she also was a misty shade of blue But when the boy grows into man He has come to ignore the fair woman Who watches him still from above Burning and swelling with disdainful love The ways of the world have sweltered his heart And time has torn his soul apart Thus he has lost all innocence and light Battling his sinful lust—an endless plight! I watch as he feeds on others’ pains and fears Reducing the vigilant woman to tears The prayer of the innocent has been ignored Life has died and hellfire stored Into the hearts of the impotent In blue, fires of haze their heart is sent Toiling in misery and lament Savaged and severed by our regret The heavenly woman grows old and frail And the man still treads the sinful trail As the rotting tree withers into dust Can I revive it? –I must! Low as low can possibly be I watch myself condescendingly A tombstone, gray and hell-bent Frowning knowingly in bewilderment Above the dust that once was a tree She cries out a verse anxiously Faintly she whispers the undying hymn Not of happiness, nothing of whim And prays that life will come to end For those that break instead of bend

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad | |

Music Take Me Back

When I'm blue and need something to make me smile
I can turn on my forty fives and listen for a while
Jimmy Gilmer sang about a Sugar Shack
Holding hands, walking down that railroad track
Then I let the music take me back.

Take me back to a time when love was new
Take me back to a time when skies were blue
When we could catch that falling star
Make love in the back seat of my car
Music, oh sweet music, take me back

Doo-wop memories touched my soul
Mixed with the early days of rock and roll
I close my eyes and through the haze
I see sunshine and better days
Music take me back to those times again.

There was Bandstand on TV in black and white
Radio on 'til you fell asleep at night
There were dances at the school
And swimming in the community pool
Music take me back, let me remember when.

Did we believe those days would forever last
Were things so much better in the past
I dream of days when a movie
Meant kissing in the balcony
Music take me back, let my heart roam.

It seems like a thousand years ago
We found true love and watched it grow
I know this is where my heart belongs
When I listen to those songs
Music take me back, please take me home.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2008

Details | Verse | |

Periphery

On a path laid as a snake,
Trodden down a winding wake,
Curls and slithers into night,
To thrones of ever-dimming light;
I hold still and gripped with feeling
In a mist that wraps concealing,
And I glimpse her flicker by
From the corner of my eye.

Heartless granite fissures break
At prayers to God of souls to take,
In their vessels bled to white,
Shells of failure and of blight;
It snares and snags as ivy veins,
Upon the brickwork, grasps and strains,
And I catch her ribbons fly
From the corner of my eye.

Set adrift in this domain,
The dead volcanoes that refrain,
Never smoking nor erupt
For the end was sharp, abrupt;
I feel the ether of despair
Envelope skin with frosted air,
I spot the crystals melt and die
From the corner of my eye.

No space for sorrow to explain,
To tell how love was savaged, slain,
The stir of breath can bare disrupt
Or wall of silence interrupt;
A fear of days, in truth, compare
With nights that always hunger there,
Unguarded moments, her I spy
From the corner of my eye.

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

While Feeding the Ducks

Here, just by chance, we're caught, in the shade
staring, surprised, into eyes of the past
while watching the ducks as they circle the pond
It seems they are hands on a clock sweeping time
where silence is gentler,... because now we are friends

Today, on this bench, lost men will linger, 
while waiting for nothing, and no place to go
Once we had claimed this 'our' place to hold hands,
planning a future that never began
Children we were with the world at command
I'm glad we aren't talking in circles,   .. like then

Other children are playing in the rust afternoon,
zippered up tight, against winter wind
Talking of children..you tell me there's two 
You show me a photo,…then, I share a few

I am all out of bread, as the sun starts to fade
taking away all the stains of the day
East of the bandstand shadows grow long, 
falling in corners like memories do

We've learned to know twilight can be bittersweet
And taste what dim recall has only allowed
Goodbyes are said, and you then, kiss my cheek, ..
then you turn and you wave, as you are crossing the street

Left wondering now, where those lost men will go,
it worries my brow, what lost men will eat
A shadow of you, is still left in the park, …
of us holding hands, as it starts to get dark
I leave a few dollars here, on our bench
Checking my watch,… I will leave no regrets


________________________________________________________________
Feeding the Ducklings Contest:
Sponsor Eve Roper

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Its Raining...

                          Its Raining…

God’s Cleansing Tool
Cloud-Concerto… How Cool !
Plop-Plop Plopping into Pothole Pools
On the Grass, Pavements and On My Own-Sweet- Fools…

who, don’t have Sense enough, to get out of the Rain…
… I think I’ll go Join Them… Again

                               Amen

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Acrostic | |

His Smile Awaits

He was my very first daydream
I thought about him all the time
Something about him made me beam

Seeing his face was so sublime
Making good grades in class was a breeze
It was his smile that was my motivation
Liking him came with such ease
Every thought of touching him came with hesitation

All I had was the way he looked at me
Waiting for his glances became my prize
A chance encounter filled me with glee
I wanted so much to feel the warmth of his eyes
Thinking of him is a great memory 
Smiles like his have become few and far between

Copyright © Brandee Augustus | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Young Again

With unclosed lids, but yet I dream
I'm lulled with distant memory
A different place, my mind redeems
I'm drifting back to yesterday

I'm back in time, with younger face
He's waiting by the gate
With tender gladness we embrace
Our new love lies in wait

With spirits young, our lives ahead
The future yet untold
My dream awakes, I'm young inside
When did we both grow old?

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008

Details | Tanka | |

Lost in Japan

Origami soul
Pressed in rice paper tightly
A tomb of beauty
Memory of Geisha's heart
Tsunami tears in albums...

www.scripca.com

Copyright © iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2010

Details | Senryu | |

Summer of Love

.


Dusk in the 60's when love dreamed a better world — Peace in my pillow
.

Copyright © Usual Suspect | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

Alone in a Hospital Room - An Alzheimer's Song

Don’t you remember, love, how we danced that first night;
beneath the sun’s rays, toes dipping in the cooling sand, 
to the tune of our favorite song –
with me humming the best I could – 
(I sounded terrible, but you told me I sounded divine, remember?)
while falling all over myself, and your delicate feet; 
and you, trying so hard not to laugh as I made such a fool of myself!
Did you ever think we would go 
from being love-sick teenagers dancing on the beach, 
to a couple of old-timers reminiscing 
about our best years – our long ago days together? 

Honey? 
Sweetheart, please…
If there is any part of that teenage girl 
left within that beautiful head of yours…please; 
please, just look in my eyes as you once did…
look at me, sweetheart…
Don’t you remember? 

My love, do you hear? 
They’re playing our favorite song…



*Inspired by Izzy Gumbo's Solfege Contest
I really hope I did this right! :)

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

The 70's

Back in those heavy times when everything was so far out Our words were but a whisper, the mans were but a shout Flower power was spreading, and everything was out of sight Preaching peace through out the days, and gettin our groove on into the night But we were always gettin hassled, by the fuzz, the man, the pigs They didn't want us smokin doobies, and flashin peace signs, can ya dig? Then peace and love had flourished, we needed to get funky and do our thing We needed a place to get our groove on, so the discos were the scene The threads we wore back then were styling, some were off the hook! It's hard to believe with the slim bread we made, we could carry that funky look? Bellbottoms, platform shoes, and jump suits people were a cravin Boogieing away the nights in the discos, where the lights were just a blazin Then the foxy chicks started getting pregoed, and the discos no longer Dyno-mite! Men needed to start makin more bread, and trying to live the family life But gigs weren't easy to find, and life became somewhat of a drag Some of the dudes skipped town, leaving the foxy mamas holding the bag Well thats the skinny of the seventies, the lowdown of peoples ways So keep on truckin all you cool cats and foxy mamas And remember all those ~Freaky, ~Far Out, ~Out Of Sight days
Dan Kearley:1-21-12

Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Walking with you

The icy wind blows through
blushing our cheeks,

Eyes stinging and watering,
and mouths tinted purple.

Snow flurries whirl around us
nipping at our ears;
making our breath white and heavy.

So, we pretend to smoke.

But wide grins give away our game
With hearts purging laughter,

We look long at each other,
Eyes glinting sincerely happy sighs.

City sidewalks stretching out
Before concrete winterlands,
And you and me walking,

Holding and swinging our hands.

Copyright © Thvia Shetley | Year Posted 2010

Details | Light Poetry | |

I Wish I was Wrong

I wished as a child upon a star
For Christmas to never be very far

Then I wished for a lovers kiss
I dreamed that love would never fall amiss

I wish at times I was not so smart
Wisdom brings disappointment after dark

I wish at times I was not always right
Happiness you see, is about letting love take flight
			
I truly wish one day to be wrong
So that you girl, will cry for me and sing me my song

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Daniel

You loved her with all your being, but then she left you wounded
Now you look at life without seeing, you feel your world has ended.

Young at twenty five and twenty three, but hope for you just ceased
To find someone though you were free, you've set your souls at peace
She’d settle for unworthy men, just not to be alone again
You gave up on love even then, seafarer who won’t sail in vain.

Young hearts alone and  lonely, but reaching to humanity
Paths have crossed though wanting only, to find your own identity
With curiosity and suspense, each with bated breath and still
Could listen to your pulse’ cadence, life’s void the other one could fill.

She was to you the blonde patience, you were the man she's longed for
Your pens spoke with great eloquence, biding  the time to come ashore
Beside the fireplace waiting, her radiant face and open arms
With love that set hearts blazing, found home in her dreams and charms.

How sweet the taste of one’s first love, that not all preconceived notions
Could have prepared you to think of, all the heated waves and oceans
That you would sail with bravery, secure in her warm embrace
In her there was no drudgery, bliss in her kiss, soft bed and lace.

But did you find true love indeed? It must have been the one question
That plagued as thoughts ebbed and receded, lost love, desire and passion
For you have shared your lives four years, just building all your dreams
Holding to each other in tears, rejoiced in her triumphs and schemes.

And yet she threw it all away, turned her back on love that's sincere
From your arms she went astray, went after what fed on her fear.
Gave up the years of love so pure, after meeting another man
Whose steadfastness she can’t be sure, as he abandoned his own clan.

Still you loved and was always there, when she needed you ‘til the end
During the storm you were her shelter, the lover whose love won’t bend.
The past year you were just coasting, along the shores, not knowing when
The wounds would heal and stop bleeding, wishing it’d stop right there and then.

Daniel my brother you should start, forget her and what could have been
Don’t let yourself fall apart, be strong, life’s more than what you have seen.
Though you loved her with all your being, but then she left you wounded
Now for your sake you should be thinking, it’s been a year, you should have mended.


(From the true story of Daniel, soul brother and friend, and the song by Elton John)
01 February, 2015
Story Poem Contest
Sponsor: Carol Eastman


Contest

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | |

The Captain and I

With the palms of well-worn leathery hands that in younger days guided a Tall Ship round 
the globe many times with the help of stars that still twinkled in his eyes, the old man made 
a porthole in the frosty forest of swirling ferns that had been painted on the kitchen window 
pane by Jack-Frost during the night.

As I sat on his lap, he told me the creaking sound made by the rockers from the rocking 
chair we sat in on the hardwood floor - if he closed his eyes, could make him believe he was 
back with the wind in his sails, rising and dipping and swaying with the whims of the 
waves ‘ore the sea.

Back- and- forth, back-and-forth, we rocked as the porthole on the window pane grew larger, 
exposing the winter wonder land outside where trees and roads and roof-tops lie frozen 
beneath a layer of fluffy snow that looked like icing on a birthday cake, as the house 
softened and swelled in the warmth of the burning kindling wood that snapped and crackled 
in the stove. 

Rocking  back-and-forth, back-and-forth, I asked him, looking into those eyes of green, with 
that far away look. “Grandpa, won’t you tell me please, what lies beyond the sea?”  He 
paused for a moment, blowing silver halos that rose from his pipe in an aroma of sweet 
smelling ‘Old Sail’ tobacco, and with the magic of his words, he took me on a journey, 
rocking across the sea where he showed me all the places and wondrous things he’d ever 
seen.

That was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, where an old man, taught a 
little girl, that life is but a dream.

                                                                ~~~~~

                          In memory of: Captain James George the Third - My Grandfather

                                                                   ~~~~~
 2nd place in  'Anything Goes #2 Contest - sponsered by Constance La France 

                                                
Author's note:  

This is one entry of many that will appear in my next book ' A Journey of Roses and Thorns'. 
They are true events that have happened in my life - some where roses, some were 
thorns.  I have learned valuable lessons from both.

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010