Playground Games Poems | Examples
These Playground Games poems are examples of Games poems about Playground. These are the best examples of Games Playground poems written by international poets.
An empty swing sways, lilting loneliness in the breeze,
With no children in play, no laughter's squeal to please,
Its rusty chain creaks a forlorn squeak for days gone by.
Like lonesome clouds that linger longingly in the sky.
The ropes are worn, the seat is torn, thread-bare.
The swing swings a lonely dance, with no one there.
It swings from the memory of when frolicking legs and arms.
Would pull it skyward, to thrust aloft its charms.
The wind blows dust tumbling through the ghost town,
Abandoned by the curse of salt in the ground-waters,
Caused by a wasteful irrigation scheme that shutdown.
Leaving the town barren, devoid of sons or daughters.
The willy-willy wisps of white crystal salt,
Lifts from the dust in the playground's remains.
Evoking ghostly images that twist and somersault
Through the rusty links on the swing link chains.
The empty swing swinging in the breeze,
Is a prayer-wheel, squeaking a mournful mantra hum,
That human greed drags nature down onto its knees,
Knowing what you've done, can't be undone.
Vegas nights and neon lights
A desert playground of sin
Enraptured then you're captured
The moment you walk in
The ambience intoxicates
The chance of fortune looms
Once you call you risk it all
In crowded smoke-filled rooms
Got a bucket full of coins
You think it's now or never
For a buck you try your luck
And pull another lever
Come on seven eleven
Shooting craps you'll never win
Anticipate as you wait
Just to roll the dice again
With all your money in their hands
You leave quiet as a mouse
Beyond a doubt you'll find out
You can't ever beat the house
Every kid loves to hear that glorious sound The crack that echoes around the playground A young boy just swung his tightly gripped bat Like lightning he runs leaving behind his blue hat
Right off it's a home run for this newly formed team Friends shouting, hardly believing what they've just seen Running past each base we can hear this young lads dreams Hey dad, someday I'm going to be on the big league teams
Author Eileen Clark 2023
In the youthful years enamored to the essence
for the unsupressible passion for playing football,
I spent the quality time in the playground
every awaited evening till the sundown.
Having set my aspiring goal to become
a professional football player of national repute,
I practiced hard year after year,
but my destiny rolled a different dice.
In one game carelessly I broke my leg,
an injury from which I could never recover
to return to the playground as an avid player,
that’s how my sporting dream broke forever.
On the tract of time I played instead
the relentless games of life as ordained.
Some I won, but many I lost
in the playground of shifting goalpost.
June 21, 2021
Contest : Playground
Sponsor : Shreya LN
Life is a playground,
where folks ‘play’ around,
Catch-me-if-you-can,
most favoured by man,
Some play badminton,
with points they’re smitten,
Volleyball goes on,
hit us with their con,
Basketball they play,
with round nets waylay,
Yet others race on,
to the trophy drawn,
Happy noises heard,
enjoy game preferred,
Yes, life’s a playground,
with deep lessons found.
06.20.2021
For Shreya LN's "Playground" contest
5 syllables per line
Celestial Play
In daylight hours when stars fall sleep,
They opened wide eyes to see celestial wonder –
The sun and moon at play
Racing across their blue playground in hide and seek –
A game of tag –
Leaving trails of laughter
For earthbound eyes,
Invited audience,
To revel in by covering their brilliant splendor
With receding light to total darkness,
Daystar encircled with a golden crown,
Then lifting shadows,
Playfully returning light again
To upturned smiles –
Suspended breath –
Captured by their mischievous spirit
As hearts of every language hold hands,
Clearly understanding
The song of unity inviting
Spirits of anticipation rise
Into Heaven’s clear vision of the magical and miraculous
Never abandoned,
Or eclipsed,
But following breathless the playmates,
Passing,
Now separating at the end of their game
While a memory replays for eternity,
Imprinted in the drowsy stars of a morning sky.
TOTAL ECLIPSE – August 21, 2017
flipping baseball cards
in the flippin' school yard
pictures up, stats down
Drysdale, Koufax, Mantle, Spahn
or vice versa all around
retirement income source lost on the playground...
When we were young, we'd freely roam
While supervision stayed at home.
We played the seasons' major sports
On vacant lots and playground courts.
No tryouts or permission slips.
No uniforms or coaching tips.
No judges, umpires, referees,
Or grownups whom we had to please.
Whoever came could join right in.
We'd choose the teams and then begin.
No clock was used to time the game.
We played until the darkness came.
We mended balls and broken bats
And yapped and scrapped like dogs and cats.
In worn-out shoes, we'd all day run
And tanned by sun with friends have fun.
Together we would strategize
And future glory fantasize.
With candy bars as fuel we'd play
And straggle home at end of day.
We taught ourselves what's right and wrong
And how to play and get along.
We sought no trophies nor acclaim,
But played because we loved the game.
The regimented kids today
Obey whatever coaches say.
They sadly do not know how free
A game among themselves can be.
Yet another dismal day, there are no children here to play;
Are they at home is it a holiday;
No children laughing, playing s winging;
And on the swings no one there, they're empty;
No swinging, just a row of swings unoccupied;
No one running, no one on the slides;
The basketball court is empty;
No one is jumping rope;
All the ponies are still;
I wonder are the kids at home;
I see a row full of swings not moving;
I 'm used to a playground full of children playing;
But alas I transgress;
Now even the wind is moving the swings;
It's clear ever so Nobody here;
Just a row of swings
11/01/17
I chased Leela Kilpatrick as a game
She turned around and kicked me with no shame
To mama that day
I just had to say
I thought she tried to live up to her name!
Playground games;
Children gambol
in the sun.
Plastic Playground
The plastic playground sits on land,
Land now defaced of nature’s scheme.
Scheme offers colored shapes pristine—
Pristine like board games played inside.
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
~6th Place~
Contest: Four Lines Only - Visual 5
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Judged: 06/12/2015
.
The icy snow sparkles in the midday sun
as we glide down on cardboard toboggans.
Scarves wrapped thrice around our necks,
overcoats buttoned to the top.
We feel no pain as we tumble off,
just laugh, and run for another go.
In the distance other children are skiing,
planks tied to their feet, sticks in hands.
Younger children have built a snowman,
coal taken from parents' bunkers for eyes.
A by-pass now runs through our playground,
this vast green used for childhood games.
Traffic cones line our slalom run.
Cars skid where we used to slide.
Lorries drive between our goalposts.
where a fantastic goal was scored.
And where a superb six was hit,
road markings show us the boundary.
Progress has left us with childhood memories
the new generation will never see.