Best Scrapbooks Poems

Some children sat down on the floor.
They sat till their bottoms were sore.
“We could each take a chair,”
said one boy sitting there.
“So then what are we waiting for?”


For the Juvenilia Contest of Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer

Note: Around age 10 or 11, I had a teacher who taught...

Continue reading...

Black and White – 3-18-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Black and White

Black and white come in focus -
Absent of prime –
A slice of life exposed through the lens,
A flash-dance of story, a masquerade ball.

No sunrise of sepia - clouds absent of platinum,
Lavender drained from lilacs, sky robbed of blue,
Red-orange stolen...

Continue reading...

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...

Continue reading...

When Grandma died, I found some things

                         Gifts midst tears that sorrow brings

        ...

Continue reading...

Safe Driving Demo
 

Quick reaction time

driving in front of the school

fastest stop won prize

beat the top three high school boys

girls have the best reflexes


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Let's Hear It
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Judged: 02/10/2016

Theme: Get your scrapbooks out! Bring your memories back! 
Something from our high...

Continue reading...

Building a fire 

Had a smirk of sorrowful clarity 
Someone dancing on my grave.
And a artist 
The night was gathering materials.
 Knowing  ambition for pleasure
Would never fill the pit.
The night called for a burn
All the grasped boxes of blankets
Nostalgic wood, Rhapsodies of a ratt-packen
Journals,...

Continue reading...

I sat and watched as you stood and cried,
you laid and pondered on why she lied.
For too long we noticed her health decline,
oh please God, why couldn’t it be benign?
For all the moments as we started to look back,
I recall forgetfulness, though it’s hard to...

Continue reading...

Mirror of Memories "Alzheimer's" Contest
Sponsor: TAMMY REAMS

I woke up scared...can't remember the time I woke up..
Scattered pictures of lost loves in my distant past.
There she is again, she said she is my daughter, 
But I don't recognize her.
Too pretty to be mine, 
And the only...

Continue reading...

I viewed the dawn through mist of fading dreams,   
Aware of silver feet upon the roof.
Eaves shivered wet, while raindrops welcomed spring
With murmured sounds, and giving me excuse
To burrow down and doze, with warming trace 
Of childhood mornings, which have blown away.
I stretch...

Continue reading...

"How sweet to the heart are the scenes of my childhood"
                        Samuel Woodworth, 1785-1842



With fond memories my heart embraces
childhood days of innocent...

Continue reading...

There's this strange fascination, 
I carry without contemplation-
it lingers on with infatuation,
as I'm stuck on this fixation.

My mother never taught me this,
I learned this all on my own-
Picture Frames and scrapbooks, 
full of the pets in my home.
I always craved more love,
than people could ever...

Continue reading...

There was a horrible fire in my 
        house not too long ago-
Everything burned to ashes and 
in the garbage I had to throw
        many valuable things that 
meant the world...

Continue reading...

I've contemplated your desires as you walk into an occupied room.
You stood there laughing, bringing sweet conversations to everyone
around you. I saw the way you catch their attention for such strikingly
words that sweep out of your mouth.

They think they know you...

They don't know you at...

Continue reading...

Fragments of a buried life, microscopic pieces,
gathering and breeding, in all the little creases.
Snapshots, stills and scrapbooks, documented angst,
diaries of disasters,of when I craved another chance.
Handled like a teeny fragile delicate new-born,
hands grasped too hard now it lies broken and torn.
It's always this way, destroy...

Continue reading...

My mum and I made many scrapbooks over the years.
To find inspiring and interesting pictures was not hard
And most magazines got past my mothers sense of decorum
And her duty to protect me from scantily clad ladies in my formative years.
My mother continued scrap booking for...

Continue reading...