Famous Short Childhood Poems

Famous Short Childhood Poems. Short Childhood Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Childhood short poems

First Memory  

 Long ago, I was wounded.
 I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was--
for what I was: from the beginning of time,
in childhood, I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.

It meant I loved.

Discord in Childhood  

 Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,
And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree 
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship’s 
Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously.
 

Within the house two voices arose in anger, a slender lash
Whistling delirious rage, and the dreadful sound 
Of a thick lash booming and bruising, until it drowned 
The other voice in a silence of blood, ’neath the noise of the ash.

Sweet is the swamp with its secrets  

 Sweet is the swamp with its secrets,
Until we meet a snake;
'Tis then we sigh for houses,
And our departure take

At that enthralling gallop
That only childhood knows.

A snake is summer's treason,
And guile is where it goes.

The Things that never can come back are several --  

 The Things that never can come back, are several --
Childhood -- some forms of Hope -- the Dead --
Though Joys -- like Men -- may sometimes make a Journey --
And still abide --
We do not mourn for Traveler, or Sailor,
Their Routes are fair --
But think enlarged of all that they will tell us
Returning here --
"Here!" There are typic "Heres" --
Foretold Locations --
The Spirit does not stand --
Himself -- at whatsoever Fathom
His Native Land --

For My Daughter  

 When I die choose a star
and name it after me
that you may know
I have not abandoned
or forgotten you.

You were such a star to me,
following you through birth
and childhood, my hand
in your hand.


When I die
choose a star and name it
after me so that I may shine
down on you, until you join
me in darkness and silence
together.

Growth  

 I watched the glory of her childhood change,
Half-sorrowful to find the child I knew,
 (Loved long ago in lily-time),
Become a maid, mysterious and strange,
With fair, pure eyes - dear eyes, but not the eyes I knew
 Of old, in the olden time!

Till on my doubting soul the ancient good
Of her dear childhood in the new disguise
 Dawned, and I hastened to adore
The glory of her waking maidenhead,
And found the old tenderness within her deepening eyes,
 But kinder than before.

To Auntie  

 "Chief of our aunts"--not only I, 
But all your dozen of nurselings cry-- 
"What did the other children do? 
And what were childhood, wanting you?"

H. Baptism II  

 Since, Lord, to thee
A narrow way and little gate
Is all the passage, on my infancy
Thou didst lay hold, and antedate
My faith in me.


O let me still 
Write thee great God, and me a child: 
Let me be soft and supple to thy will, 
Small to my self, to others mild, 
Behither ill.


Although by stealth
My flesh get on, yet let her sister
My soul bid nothing, but preserve her wealth: 
The growth of flesh is but a blister; 
Childhood is health.

On The Death Of Friends In Childhood  

 We shall not ever meet them bearded in heaven
Nor sunning themselves among the bald of hell;
If anywhere, in the deserted schoolyard at twilight,
forming a ring, perhaps, or joining hands
In games whose very names we have forgotten.

Come memory, let us seek them there in the shadows.

Antimatter  

 On the other side of a mirror there's an inverse world, 
where the insane go sane; where bones climb out of the 
earth and recede to the first slime of love.


 And in the evening the sun is just rising.


 Lovers cry because they are a day younger, and soon 
childhood robs them of their pleasure.


 In such a world there is much sadness which, of course, 
is joy.

The Sin Of Hamlet  

 The horns in the harbor booming, vaguely,
Fog, forgotten, yesterday, conclusion,
Nostalgic, noising dim sorrow, calling
To sleep is it? I think so, and childhood,
Not the door opened and the stair descended,
The voice answered, the choice announced, the
Trigger touched in the sharp declaration!

And when it comes, escape is small; the door
Creaks; the worms of fear spread veins; the furtive
Fugitive, looking backward, sees his
Ghost in the mirror, his shameful eyes, his mouth diseased.

Vita Nova  

"You saved me, you should remember me.

The spring of the year; young men buying tickets for the ferryboats.
Laughter, because the air is full of apple blossoms.

When I woke up, I realized I was capable of the same feeling.

I remember sounds like that from my childhood,
laughter for no cause, simply because the world is beautiful,
something like that."