Best Childhood Memories Poems

The swinging sixties never swung
As much as people said
But for me, the bands
And the songs they sung
Linger on inside my head

I rocked and rolled to Morningtown
On a wagon with one wheel
And followed tracks 
That took me down 
To fields that were surreal

A jungle snake both sang and hissed
When a man climbed on his cloud
Then a...

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"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
                       Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)

I fondly recall the innocent days of my childhood,
playing hide and seek...

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adventurous days
running through wildflower fields
carefree memories
of playing with my siblings
birthday parties and skating

first day of grade school
a bit shy to make new friends
riding a school bus
Sesame Street with Big Bird
snacking on cookies and milk

waiting for Santa
holidays and Christmas trees
loving family
lots of giggles and laughter
old photographs in scrapbooks


August 13, 2022
Childhood Nostalgia Contest
Sponsored by JCB Brul...

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Waves
and spume
tickles toes
as I paddle
on the shore ... reliving my childhood days

Sweet memories come flooding back to me
a tiny tot
having fun
in the 
sea

Tetractys This Poetry Contest
Charles Messina


4/28/19...

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"How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood"

                                   Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842

How bittersweet my young days were indeed,
without a...

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Picking berries on grandpa’s farm;
watching him milk cows in the barn.
Getting chased once by swarms of bees.
Oodles of childhood memories.

Books that I read with so much to gain.
Walking down that long country lane;
Hiding behind and climbing up trees.
Oodles of childhood momories.

We had albums; one Disney song
Snow White sang and we’d sing along.
That dear pink bear...

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summer's golden hot
auntie's made cool lemonade
front porch nostalgia

flowers all the day
in mauve orange and yellow
playing in the yard

lemon meringue pie
and sunflowers are nodding
gilded memories...

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Casting my mind back many a year
To childhood days spent catching bees
Those long gone memories do bring a tear
Playing with friends in the summer breeze

A simple jam jar, air holes pierced in the lid
Laden with clover and blades of green grass
To catch a bumblebee, shear delight for a kid
Observing him carefully through the transparent glass

Like...

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Dad, how I love to recall
The days when I was very small,
On your lap, ear upon your chest,
Moments like these I loved the best.

Holidays with coastal walks,
Singing songs and having talks.
Shadow puppets on the wall.
Picking me up after a fall.

Saucepan lids and banging pans
Singing MacNamaras band.
With my 'slippy' on your head,
Auntie Mary stories before bed.

A...

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How often does your childhood memories 
Haunt you? Deep asleep? 
When you awake at dawn? Halfway through 
The Rubicon of your daydreams?
In the thick of solitude, or just when 
You wax nostalgic with your folks?
Do you hold happy ones so dear you wish to 
Turn back the hands of time and relive them?
Do you remember...

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Climbing frames where we grazed our knees
Knees kissed better by watchful mum. 
Mum always there while we had fun
Fun days at play – how I miss them!

Contest Four Lines Only. Nette Onclaud
Checked with how many syllables
7th June 2015
Jan Allison
Visual 5...

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"How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood"


Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842


my thoughts gathered like seashells on this sand
i watch this sun rise a bloodied red sphere
lifting from the sea, beneath it i stand

i am alone again, it's death i fear
yet i hear you whispering through this air
a mother's voice now tarries on my...

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Delicately crafted Indian arrowheads,
razor-sharp flint projectile points,
primitive stone bullets,
hidden artifacts from long ago.

Eventually, they call out to our curiosity
on hot and steamy summer mornings,
inviting us to freshly plowed cornfields,
where they’ve patiently slept for millennia.

You know they’re out there,
hoping to remain buried secrets, yet
wishing to be found, revered, and held excitedly
in eager young boys’ sweaty palms.

We...

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Bee 
            Sting
  Screaming...

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This day would come,
of course, I knew
that seasons passed,
not how they flew.

My sons grew tall
how can that be!
I want them back
upon my knee!

I want to hold them
once again,
and sing them love songs
without end.

I want their whispers
in my ear
of magic words
that children hear.

I want to catch them
before they fall. 
I want them back again,
but small.

I want...

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