Nostalgia Idyll (Idyl) Poems | Examples
These Nostalgia Idyll (Idyl) poems are examples of Idyll (Idyl) poems about Nostalgia. These are the best examples of Idyll (Idyl) Nostalgia poems written by international poets.
The sun rises up,
Then the clouds move in.
Heavy with drops,
Soon the rain would begin.
It’s wild at first,
With lightning flashes,
Then the thunder,
With booms and clashes.
It moves quickly by,
The high winds blow.
Then it calms,
As if to know
We need a break,
From the summer sun.
We want to play
And have some fun.
Under the trees
We make up games,
Freed from the heat
By the cool summer rains.
I lift the sleeve of time and years
To a little grass hut that brings wistful tears
for fragrant leis and Koa bowls
For rainbows arc-and friendly souls.
I pray for a palace of dreams and memories
With stones and pillars of mementos
And high crystal ceilings that glow with my dreams.
Halls filled with melancholy melodies—
Each bittersweet note echoing the hopes, fears
And tears of all my past years and epochs.
I wish to wear regalia woven with nostalgia,
So I may dance with familiar shadows, dining with them
On pleasing delicacies of olden days while waited upon by
Mere thoughts.
I yearn for stately windows viewing wondrous groves
That rustle with all that which could have been, but did not—
And colossal galleries of art that mirrors my memories,
So I may live them again, but only as a perfect dream.
A garden fence worn by the weather
The entrance port screaming in the breeze
The paint is peeling off many years ago
Inside the port where it grows timothy
between weeds and dead roots
An old and weather worn houses in the garden
The house has its soul, but no people
A long time ago, a beautiful home
Much joy, laughter and love
in this old house and the uncared garden
The roses are deep red and is a beautiful sight
they creep up the unpainted wall
and cover almost the entire house
A beautiful carpet of deep red roses
There is a forgotten garden that lives its own life
16.08.2013
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Contractual agreements with publisher caused DELETION
I can smell my past in the particles of air that surround me.
Familiar images flood through my mind.
All that was lost, from all that has been found.
It all came to rest in the final days of my childhood.
I can smell my past in the musty blast of hot air
In the room.
How much I’ve come to appreciate that odd placed
Nostalgia.
So much about that time places me into
Careless drifting.
I can smell my past as if the moon is still
Triumphant in the sky and we’re all still
Awake laughing together.
And that air was always present with us,
As we exhausted our youth into the small
Corner of that house.
I can smell my past,
As if you are still here with us.
And some say that I’d best forget it,
Lest it drag me back there.
But those people don’t understand that without
These reflections, how would I be able to recognize
Who I am today.
I can smell my past,
and it's all that I can ask for.
On a lonely hill
Stands a lonely house
Under a gray blue sky.
An empty shell of what used to be
A reminder of days gone by.
It's walls once housed a family with love
It's roof kept them safe and dry.
It's windows shown with the bright morning sun
As they watched the world go by.
If ever you pass this lonely house
Stop a minute and think
Of all the lives and all the love
That's past through this lonely place.
And remember with awe how life must have been
Under a gray blue sky.
I listen on the beach to the waves cascading,
Slapping, tossing the sand pebbles,
Creating swishing, swashing sounds,
I hear hissing, rustling sounds of the wind.
I see some gliding fishing boats there,
The seagulls soaring, gliding in the air here,
On the horizon floating ships still further,
Surfers trying to get rides on the waves here.
I watch people running strolling and sunning,
The sun is about to set on the horizon,
With a promise to rise anew tomorrow morning,
Like the human ambitions and desires unknown.
I notice the crabs scurry somewhere hiding,
The scooping pelicans with mouthful of fish,
Leaving the smooth bed of sand, water receding,
All sounds now receding to its minimum hiss.
Come, Grace, getting away from the turmoil,
It is the time for us to be in tranquility to coil?