Best The Good Old Days Poems
One thing is for sure when tales are told
The "good old days" are sure to unfold
Now understand
What made them grand
Was that we weren't good and we weren't old!
Categories:
the good old days, humorous, nostalgia, word play,
Form:
Limerick
It’s a feeling that never fails
To follow a generation
Triggered by sights and smells
A nostalgic way of thinking
A one up on millennials
Knowing the correct way
It’s all the vibes and feels
Of back in the good old days
A love/hate relationship
For the progression of technology
Every day we use it
But reminisce the “used to be”
An expression of disappointment
Across a slowly, shaking head
And subconscious judgement
Of how others break their bread
One thing is for certain
History will repeat
This earth will keep turning
Beneath our aging feet
Categories:
the good old days, age, change, remember, time,
Form:
Rhyme
We were all much younger, happier then,
And untouched by heartache, sadness;
In dreams, we go back again and again,
And bring to our hearts gladness!
From Grandpa Frank, father of the Fields,
And Miss Pauline, who married his boy;
The hand of fate's no longer concealed,
As countless descendents live the joy.
When we were young, our parents were, too,
And each day was a new surprise;
When we were young, all skies were blue,
And life was sunrise, apple pies!
In the good old days, we laughed a lot,
And were high spirited and free;
And remembered what time had forgot,
And was unable to foresee.
In the beginning, we were carefree,
Back in those young love days;
I caught a glimpse of all eternity,
Once, in the good old days!
Categories:
the good old days, childhood, family, joy, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
In the good old days, I rode all over town.
Our city had so many hills that on my bike
I’d be ploughing up one street, then racing down.
Loved that bike, but still don’t like to hike!
In the good old days, I ate a lot of food!
Didn’t gain an ounce of fat till I hit puberity.
No more eating for me any more just cause I’m in the mood!
I weigh myself each morning and count each calorie.
In the good old days with my siblings I would play.
Nowadays I’m at home and often alone.
That’s okay; I’m good with either way,
and I can always call my sisters up and talk by phone.
In the good old days, I could dream of dreamy guys,
and I could date a lot of guys (get different new first kisses -
sometimes great; sometimes not!) Today I have the prize
of nearly half a century spent now as a Missus!
Jan. 16, 2021
Categories:
the good old days, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
Our
water
came from springs
and back yard wells.
We raised crops and cleaned
our sturdy homemade things.
All worked. No duties were shirked.
Now, we captives to modern ways
sit in comfy homes, smile, and speak of
the good old days and how we miss them--NOT.
July 22, 2016
I have MANY sweet memories of the sixties, but they are NOT of the duties
described above!
Categories:
the good old days, change, nostalgia,
Form:
Etheree
THE GOOD OLD DAYS – JOURNAL XVI
Looking back from this point
I’d have to make a division
Between adults and children
For adults the many tasks were more
The thirties were the ultra-sparse of times –
Men out seeking work, women with back
breaking chores
The washboard, carpet beater, scrubbing (on
hands and knees) floors –
For most no modern conveniences
The kids – at least this kid – were relatively
happy
They might help out, certainly,
But had not the worry,
The responsibility
Things wearing out was not a big factor
Like, rubber resoles, needle and thread,
sewing machine,
The Model T with removable parts
The everyday things pristine
But people wore out
Everything moved so much slower
Those worn out moved slower –
the worry, emotional fatigue -
One’s age, life expectancy much lower
In these last few, as I reluctantly rise each day,
I want to remember the happy kid
And thank the martyrs, the miserable
For making him that way
Categories:
the good old days, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Just remembering the 50's and the good old days,
When "I'm Bored" wasn't part of our vocabulary.
We had hopscotch, skip rope, hide 'n seek, and tag,
Life was full of adventure, dreams and mystery.
Food was scarce, money earned collecting bottles throughout the countryside.
Many of us hadn't even a bike nor a toboggan on which to slide.
We romanced the rain showers during April,
And frolicked in snow drifts at winter time.
Imaginations were awakened and we befriended,
Our river, meadows and woods with trees to climb.
Back then it was safe to walk alone to a friend's home,
Or explore along The St. Lawrence River's shore.
Back then neighbours were like family- close kin
Who'd no need to ever lock their door.
Simplicity was the poor man's secret,
Practising love, patience, humility and joy
Ever noticed the man who is led by God's Hand,
Never loses the essence of a much admired boy?
Reflections by Joan May Donnelly Ellis March 17 2015
Categories:
the good old days, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
EYES -
The round-of-life scene,
Hope of hereafter,
An aspect between
Movement hinders sight and more
A sandy beach
Spread at the shore
Glaze crust an itchy lid
Harsh chemicals
A thousand things hid
But now I lay me down,
Bright years in favor,
Beloved benevolent of the town
Lids drop comfortably,
A flesh-fast wall
See this dusty saffron galaxy -
All speculation, mind,
Based on ancient sacred text,
On human eyes, script of the time –
This mellow – now beige – array
Of swirling, tiny specks sifted,
Some far brightness on display
Beyond could be angels awing
So white, inner eye barely detects
But soul might hear them sing
More glorious than Cologne,
Alpine, or billowing clouds,
Their sweet voices whisper, moan
Forgot the body prime -
That ultimately false prison -
In this thoughtless region sublime
Dave Austin
Categories:
the good old days, death,
Form:
Free verse
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Sleepless night, in the early morn
Off to rush, rush, in Junkanoo!
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Dancing in the streets
Wearing crocus sacks and rags
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Making music with dry poinciana pods
Rocks in cans and goat skin drums
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Scrapping saws and scrub boards
banging on tin wash tubs
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Adorn in cactus painted masks
Topped with corn tassel sprigs
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Not having store bought gifts
But delicious fruits and cake galore!
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Going to candle light service
In celebration of Jesus’ birth
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
The spirit of Holidays was alive
On smiling faces everywhere
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Where well wishes echoed around
As carolers sang by candlelight
I haven’t forgotten
The good old days of Christmas
Each year Christmas is special for me
As I remember my Christmas' Past
Categories:
the good old days, holiday, old, old,
Form:
Free verse
The Good Old Days
Take me back to the good old days
When we were grateful for what we had
Now people have much more than they need
And society has gone bad
Greed is the keyword and money their God
Everyone out for themselves
I remember a time when we thought we were rich
If we had food on our shelves
People have to keep up with the Joneses'
Bigger house, bigger car, better job
But trying to keep up with the Joneses’
Just makes people think they're a snob
They look down their nose at ones poorer than them
Think they're better than everyone else
Just because they've got private health care plans
And the poor have got National Health
I don't know what our ancestors would think
If they were alive today
They'd probably think we'd all be better off
Living life like the good old days
Categories:
the good old days, nostalgia, poetry, society,
Form:
Rhyme
the good old days
blacks lining up for restrooms
always in back
buses, trains, movie houses--all
but please spend your money here
Categories:
the good old days, age, black african american,
Form:
Tanka
The Good Old days
Remember them? Probably not,
The Good old days, where have the gone?
The days of sitting down with a good friend, no time you keep,
Where you sit on the porch, fresh cool lemonade, summertime breeze.
The Good old days, we'd talk til the sun went down,
No stress, no worries, just honest, friendly, friendly chatter,
The Good old days, what you looked like, it didn't matter,
You listened with your heart, you healed with a tender touch,
We all were here to love, support each other, success was measured by our richness in friendship,
not by material things we owned, Oh how I miss them so much..
The Good old days, are now a forgotten memory, kinda like a well known book, that has collected dust, waiting for someone to notice it on the shelf, we see with our eyes, because its old, we don't bother to look inside, to see what great heartwarming stories it holds for our heart to hear, my dear friend, sister Sarah, has taught me to stop and smell the towers, look for a sunflower, for when the sun shines, it shows its face, and brings happiness to those in need.
Categories:
the good old days, absence, beautiful, birth,
Form:
Ballade
Grandpa, tell me about the good old days
I want to hear of your younger ways
When there was no T.V. and there were no cars
When at night you looked up and could count the stars
About how you skipped stones across the lake
With no video games to entertain
What's all this about fun being free?
All this old I hear sure is new to me
Did people really sit and talk?
And where they went did they actually walk?
How did you survive without a microwave?
I bet cooking then must have taken days
You say your parents let you just run about
Were they not afraid you would be kidnapped?
And you didn't come home till dinner time?
Grandpa to me that just doesn't seem right
Did Moms and Dads really stay together
like they promised, till death do us part?
Cause they don't do that that much anymore
and it can really mess up some hearts
Did you talk much with your neighbors
even though you lived miles apart?
Cause mine are living right next door
and I don't even know who they are
You say there weren't warning labels on everything
How in the world did you feel safe back then
And without a cell phone in your hand
How did you keep up with all your friends
Grandpa, did you not ever get bored
Chasing down the wind in the great outdoors
And you say you had everything that you could need
All this old I hear sure is new to me
Categories:
the good old days, childhood, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Twirling around the glossy smooth floor
Racing with friends on roller-skates
Tossing my hair as I glide across the room
Feeling so certain that this is my destiny
Weaving through the crowd lithely, swiftly
Smiling at everyone, my heart filled with laughter
Lighting the entire room with the heartfelt joy
Discovered in this place where I owned elation
Bending and looping through the noisy rink
Listening to the tender voice of Bob Segar or
Possibly, AC/DC – Lynyrd Skynyrd or some
Other rock n’ roll group who teens revered
Whirling through the gathering of adolescents
My heart was filled with hope that I would find
The chosen one, the boy who I was sure of
A dream of mine, who read all those love stories
Twisting and turning to the sound of Meatloaf’s voice
My heart raced with delight when I saw him smiling
The one I knew would be for me, forever and always
Going down in history… nowadays, I kiss him each morning!
The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
January 9, 2021
Categories:
the good old days, fun, high school, teen
Form:
Free verse
In relics where memories are found,
And so often said, 'the good old days'.
Yet, here we are still hanging around,
Imagining better were the old ways.
Now change will it ever come?
For this is not how it used to be;
In nostalgia gathering from,
The new day becomes hard to see.
So we draw from old amendments
And older testaments to,
For somehow it compliments,
Our 'good old days' point of view.
Until change of course slow to come
When conservative in old age yearns;
Yet, great again, we'll beat the drum,
While ignoring that the world turns.
Categories:
the good old days, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme