Best Youthful Poems
Farewell, Youthful Days Of Wading In Crystal Clear Streams
Farewell, the coming dawn and its soft, golden glow
born as infant fawn, a peaceful river in flow
or a memory of life beneath crescent moon
Refreshing breeze, shade's breath, simmering in hot June.
Farewell, that dream, a glory yet to be unfurled
Predawn vision of happiness in this sad world
or true essence of love and its power to heal
Lost soul, gifted again the joy a heart can feel.
Farewell, those whispers of new promising delights
found within romantic scenes on cool moonlit nights
or lingering kiss, given within sweetest zeal
infinite treasure once found, none can ever steal.
Farewell, new discoveries of love, its powers.
Farewell, remembered gems, those passionate fine hours.
Robert J. Lindley, 3-10-2020
A new Sonnet, ( Composed as Tribute to poet, Alfred Noyes )
see my new blog on this amazing poet...
Those Youthful Days Were Intensely Sweet
In poetic words, disillusionment I often paint,
about a wild man that was never a saint.
A life that raced into darkness in such haste,
never seeing the coming misery and waste!
There were hills of thrills to happily scale
never thinking of either heaven or hell.
I grabbed the pleasures that deep lust demands
while dancing to music of rock n roll bands!
O' yes, those youthful days were intensely sweet
now in my maturity I find that this I must meet
Reality of my faded memories shall not last
and every day a challenge to have a blast.
Time has a way of delivering its greatest hits.
Memories found false, one rarely forgets.
Robert J. Lindley 1-19-2015
Note: Memories even if bitter sweet, are still gold
when one wants to frolic in the past and ponder
the what-ifs, the if-only's and the I should-of's...
You know you are old when you look back more than you look forward methinks. Old age, the great equalizer..
Yesterday when I was in youthful prime
Questioning nothing the whole world was mine
Without fear, I met each and every day
Wish it were possible to stay that way.
Decades have sped by and now in old age
Memories abound with me they engage
As my eyesight grows dim recall is bright
Love burns with passion it did not take flight.
Alone but not lonely each day must face
Youthful echoes I willingly embrace
Each hour my mind wanders to far-off years
I smile remembering no time for tears.
If you are always young and youthful
Are you really being honest and truthful?
Or was the way you wish you had been
Looking so pretty, nice and then.
There must be some kind of a catch
But I was mortified after finding the match
You will never guess who it turned out to be
Someone weird who liked exactly like me.
Would I ever come completely to my senses
And start using the correct verb tenses
Or this you it would probably disturb
When it was very likely to be an adverb.
How ironic it had been when I imitated
Someone in a picture Van Gogh created
And what I learned when I last did look
Is me for Van Gogh I was badly took.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Foolish youthful emotion rides waves
divorced from tempered reason,
a swirling vortex craves
hot passion for a summer season . . .
Spent fires prelude life’s bitter mosaic
by lies to self first born, prosaic,
shards of broken resolutions pieced in patchwork mirrors
where glittering alternatives reflect and pierce like arrows.
Release me from regret and self-doubt;
let the childlike spirit arise and shout.
© September 15, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Days of my youthful exuberance are gone
But love and passion continue life's song
Remind me each day
I'm enjoying my stay
And I'm here for the duration however long
The Aged Youthful Gentleman
He rested in a wooden chair-his good times almost had,
The aged youthful gentleman-the father of my dad.
He uttered rarely a word if it weren't amusing or wise,
The aged youthful gentleman dealt not with waste nor lies.
And he was my shelter, security and pride,
He lives on still within me tho' some do swear he died.
He was abundantly gifted with story and catchy rhyme,
The aged youthful gentle man who carried not a dime.
His only luxury in life was kept in an old tin chest,
A shot of 'fer me heart' brandy each eve before his rest,
The remainder of his income helped fill plenty of need,
For a son who'd a sickly wife and 8 wee mouths to feed.
I suspect he's traded that old wooden chair for a jewelled throne,
The aged youthful gentleman who made his house our home.
28/2/2012
Snow covered earth lies still on a cold and frosty February morn,
Floating & frolicking in the breeze Sentiment of spring still unborn.
Spring starved eyes dart across aestivating weeping willow trees,
Watching for a portent, sign or an omen of youthful furry catkins that are nature’s guarantees.
Lo! , behold and feast your eyes with the sight of studded pusywillows,
Brought home as springs earliest harbinger and placed in accommodating silos.
Fine grey fur covered decorated pusywillows that come before leaves imply, suggest and connote,
Religious fervor, prosperity and happiness for all walks of life these pusywillows signify and promote.
I'm not as youthful
As I used to be
Am I still beautiful?
What would you say to me?
I'm not as youthful
As I'd like to be
My muscles are painful
My back aches constantly
I'm not as youthful
As I hope to be
To God I'm beautiful
That matters most to me
A burning carnal desire,
exquisite fire glowing hot,
is joyful kindling!
Lingering mouths
nourish obsessed passion;
quivering rapture
stimulates the unabashed.
Voraciousness wreaks
Xanadu’s youthful zeal!
For Allright Poet's Abc Contest Poetry Contest
ABC form type one as explained at PoetrySoup's "Types of Poems"
Young generation ardor from sculpted hero borrows
Older generation, torpor to graft peaceful tomorrows
Can young eyes through steely sheath glimpse marrow
O'er from dried paint, the blood stains that do burrow
From pursed lips, do the painful strains bellow
O'er from silent gun, percussive waves billow
Youthful glint on glimmering memorial glows
From aged lens, vicarious tears solemnly flow
Lad's fawning beams on chivalric statue strew
Elder's sorrowful squints the mediated surface furrow
Young mind each, savory fold does swallow
Aged intellect each corroded line does follow
On gilded bust, youth's prating eyes wallow
Gaunt septuagenarian mourns core now hollow
Around girth, innocent lids embrace time's fleeting shadow
Experienced hearts scorn clones strung from future gallows
New hopes, dreams cover the base now fallow
New doubts, fears sweep sodded ground, now sallow
A golden spark gleams
in aging blue eyes, faded gray.
Rain lulls her to sleep
through the window of youthful dreams.
01/12/17
Contest: Quadro
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
I can stand on a speck of dust
And move the entire universe
Can take on devil's machinations
And brave any God's curse.
If the sun does not behave properly
I will swallow it without a burp
Planets behaving unruly?
Will turn them into pulp.
I can do this
I can do that
I can do anything
Don't invite my wrath
Deadlier than scorpion's sting.
Girls of all hues and colors
Fall for me like nine pins
Whether in saris, or in skirts,
Or be wearing jeans.
I would be for them
Romeo, Samson, Newton,
All combined in one,
Presley, Bruce Lee, oo7
Bond without a gun.
All evil, scared of me,
Be perennially on run.
I can do so much
Have soooooooo much in me.
PROBLEM IS ONLY ONE;
It's such a great pity
That before I move the universe
I have to clear university!
Deficient air I breathe in my lungs
In this world now I live, daddy's are careless
The children feeling helpless
Mother's have to play two characters
All I can see is the tears
That flow down their cheeks
Why am I disrespected by the one's who I look up to
I stick with my boys, because I never understood
Why girls constantly hate each other
I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war
Trying to fit in is so called being cool
Its just another word for being someone else fool
If they smoke, dislikes him or her
Then that person does the same
Now its all eyes on me so I have to go along too
Since I look at life at a different angle
I chose to go my own way
If my clothes ain't tight then he isn't going to like me
Being nice it's just a bad finish in the end
I guess I come last, some still say I'm just stuck in my past
As much as my pulverized heart been through
I learned to put off love as it corker, belittlement, and depressed me for years
I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war
If I were a fish,
and I could fly,
I'd turn the world upside down,
simply just to make it better.
If I were a morning dove
and I could swim,
I'd make sure that everyone is loved,
and the world would be happier.
If I were a parrot,
with a vow of silence,
all would stop and listen,
to the more important things in life.
If I could,
I would continue kissing you forever,
and love you like no other.
If I were a lucky leprechaun
I'd leap to the end of the rainbow
and share all my wealth with the world.
Flying fish,
Swimming doves,
Silent parrots,
Endless kisses,
and lucky leprechauns
may not exist in our world
but they could,
if we stayed young at heart.