Long Tomboy Poems
Long Tomboy Poems. Below are the most popular long Tomboy by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tomboy poems by poem length and keyword.
The yard my world
Or so I’m told
Was where I spent my time
Where this little lass
A tomboy too
Loved rolling in the grass.
Trees ladened with mangoes
yellowed with ripe
A great temptation to this little child
Who with a stone and David’s aim
Brought mangoes down Goliath
style
Playmates I had and many too
From chickens, birds and ducks
To puppies, pigeons, turkeys and cats
Not to mention the upside down bats.
A sister and brother my siblings two
My sister’s a lady no sport for fun
My brother my follower was my ally won
He did what I told Him no questions asked
But got many a spanking when we crossed the line.
The old hammock swung from a branch
That bellied and hung
Quite low to the ground
For many a day both brother and I
swinging to and fro
did topple to the ground.
But best were the moments
I spent with God when we talked of many things
while I blamed Him for everything
that went wrong in my life
Oh those precious memories are the fabric of my life.
Sworn to secrecy, she told me it had been a long time..
as we sat swinging in a hammock in the late day sun.
'What., are you sayin' you never did it?'
I thought what my mom would do if she caught me, and replied
'brought up different I guess'.
She leaned back into the netting, perhaps chewing on what I said..
half her face streaked in sunlight.
Suddenly aware of her leg touching mine. So warm...
My cotton red racing striped trunks from Sears, with a secret webbed key pocket..her faded OshKosh B'Gosh bibs she wore all summer except on Sundays.
(Sundays were saved for wearing that white & pink pleated Victorian get up she so detested; a gift from her Grandma bought from Macy's mail order catalog)
She ribbed me with her right elbow, as she jumped clear of our swing..
when her mom yelled 'time for supper Kat!' from the front porch.
But she turned back with that dangerous look I'd learned, leaned in close, and licked across all her teeth.
'Milk's colder and better ya know..
drunk straight from the carton.'
She ran inside letting the screen door go with a full slam..!
I thought about all the times we watched Jonny Quest at her house,
eatin' our Quisp or Kaboom with that milk..., and smiled.
I kept Kat's secret safe..,'til just now anyway.
dialogue
When Sherri was a little girl
a baby crow fell out of the tree
and being my little tomboy
she said "Leave this up to me".
So up the tree she climbed
to put little "Elvis" back in his nest.
Mama crow did not appreciate it
and became somewhat of a pest.
When the rest of us walked outside
she just gave us the evil eye
but for Sherri she had other plans,
dive-bombing her from the sky.
Whichever door she left by
that crow was watching for her
and dived and pecked at our little girl.
The ungrateful, miserable cur.
No good deed goes unpunished
is a saying we've all come to know.
Intended perhaps for humans
but it certainly relates to a crow.
To marvel how fast the world spins around,
or how the years have been sifting, (too quickly, I've found)...
This is not something new....from a mom's point of view
Some will say that my eyes have been clouded
Perhaps they will say, my opinion is shrouded
by my rose filtered glasses
But here, now before me, is my wonderful child
this barefooted lass...
She stands here before me, ...barefooted and beautiful
Wearing her jeans......smiling with ease, calm and serene
Queen of her home
My daughter,… my child, is all grown up
There are times I must hold back the tears...
and hold back my longings for all those yesteryears....
I reflect upon the moments, then, when she was very small
Her shoes were tiny slippers, pink,
In a blink of an eye, she outgrew them all
It gives me pause to think
I puzzle over silly things, the things that mark the passing years
Like other mothers do…
While wiping childish tears, calming school day fears,
Teaching her to tie her shoes
I wonder how I could have missed
The secret of those shoes,…
You see, from tiny slippers, she quickly skipped...
Into dirty sneakers, ....(for tomboy moods)
I speculate, like many girls
So many phases, that she outgrew…
Sandals, flip flops, bouncy curls
Those wobbly legs in high heeled shoes…
I stand in awe, how can this girl with honey hair,
Who holds a babe in loving arms, be my very own?
When yesterday she was a child with cheeks so fair
Now kisses the toes of her own sweet child…
her own two feet on solid ground
...............................................................................................................
I don’t understand friendship.
Why do people who play as your friends all through your childhood
then turn around and hurt you.
Then turn back around like nothing’s ever happened, and play nice.
It’s happen too many times that I now know who’s not my friend.
Even if it was just about me sitting next to them, or her inviting me to a party.
All they do is turn right around, cause they suddenly doesn’t have room to sit anymore.
And she thinks I’m crazy.
Childhood friend, 5 days apart, best friends forever.
Been friends since birth…
We were the tomboys together, resisting the girl inside us.
The years start flying past us as we grow, me to be more of a tomboy with the brothers
And her with the prissy girls, making fun of the girls like me.
We’re both 14… I call her up to hangout thinking we’re still best friends.
She’s too busy to hangout ‘cause she’s going out with her friends.
Slowly we stop talking to each other.
Did I say 5 days apart… my bad I meant 5 thousand years apart.
We see each other at church camp and we’re put in the same group.
Normally I’d be thrilled, but I knew that she’s not the same friend I knew.
In the day she’s the prissy girl, but by night… she’s the know-it-all for all sexual knowledge.
She’s done it more than once… but I’m just now hearing about it? Why?
What happened to my best friend?
Where did she go?
Who’s my friend now?
She is not a girly-girl, he said.
Not realizing most girls aren’t.
She may say things that surprise you, he interjected.
Not knowing that most girls do.
I am not sure if she is a tomboy or not, he admitted.
Not knowing many girls, actually, maybe not knowing any.
Including this one.
The girl sat in the corner, thinking.
Plotting her escape from this man
Who had never taken the time to know her at all.
Her mother had died in childbirth,
and she had been homeschooled.
She had no idea if she was a real girl, a tom girl
or a tom boy girl.
In this setting, she had no identity at all.
But she was a thinker, and a plotter.
She could play the piano, and plant a garden.
She could travel with her imagination to the sky.
So she did that.
Living every day in a make believe world
Her nirvana included deer, butterflies, and unicorns.
She lived it happily,
far away from the only person who should have known her
But clearly did not.
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)
I fondly recall the innocent days of my childhood,
playing hide and seek among the backyard boxwood,
and life as I knew it then was sweet and good.
Country life was always fun.
I treasured Christmas tree lights glowing in the dark,
family gatherings each summer in Audubon Park.
In my younger years I was as carefree as a lark,
enjoying days in the sun.
With my little sister beside me we made mud pies
and didn't see anything wrong with little white lies
or that dancing like ballerinas in the rain wasn't wise
until our pirouettes were done.
I enjoyed having an allowance that I could spend
and sharing whispered secrets with my best friend,
wishing our playing time outside would never end.
How I loved to run!
In sweet memories I recall swimming in the lake,
helping Mom in the kitchen when she would bake,
and eating more icing than I had put on the cake.
Having fights with a water gun.
How wonderful were my days spent as a child,
Dad called me a tomboy because I was a bit wild.
I was happy and content with life, always beguiled
with everything I'd done.
My braided pigtails were yanked by a silly boy in school.
He giggled like an idiot thinking he was so cool,
til I fought back with a fist and called him a 'stupid fool.'
That battle I had won.
If memory serves me well, I remember not liking boys.
Always wanting their way and making too much noise.
I preferred playing house with many of my stuffed toys.
Boys were creatures to shun.
I was very competitive and wanted to win every race,
and didn't care much in those days about ladylike grace.
I recall being angry with myself for falling flat on my face
and not talking to anyone.
I've photos of me since I was born and it's plain to see
that my childhood was a very delightful time for me.
With a loving family like mine, I grew up quite esprit.
I love them all, a ton!
October 8, 2022 - A Constance La France Contest
Writing Challenge - Past Memories - "T" Forms Poetry
As a youngster, I looked like a boy…there was nothing girly to be seen
I could run topless without comment until the age of about fifteen.
I could climb the highest tree, jump the highest fence
I even dislocated the shoulder of the man teaching me self defense…
I could run forever eating the wind - but was never really fast
That didn’t matter in any event, I was the one that none could out last.
I could dive and swim from the heights to the depths
I could do so much and never lose my breath.
Then I turned eleven and things started on a decline
I fell out of a tree head first… and it was definitely not by design.
I hit the ground, but remember it not, apart from all the screaming
From thirty foot I took my dive because of too much leaning
They all knew I was the only one able to climb that tree
A mother asked me to save a kite that had cost about 50p
I remember thinking that branch was thin and would break
I was right but for the mother, this risk I did take…
It caught me out and that was when I learnt there was one thing I could not do,
And that was fly like a bird, or float like a butterfly, believe me, I really tried too.
My neck was broken when I landed there and hit the ground,
I remember my toe was the only thing hurting when I came round…
But then a terrible thing happened… and I turned into a girl
My tomboy escapades were gone - it happened in a whirl
I hung on as long as I could but things began to change
One thing was sure at this time… I was never mistaken for a boy again.
© 19/05/2012
" That's not my elephant!"
Ella yelled at the zoo-keeper...
walking slowly on her hands and feet
scaring the second grader away;
and making a funny face
she added, " She doesn't eat spaghetti!"
with a strong southern accent.
" Young lady, don't make fun
of people and animals...
they have feelings like you!"
but she, with little respect
for the middle-aged man replied,"
Read The Bill Of Rights...I can do
what I like...I have got freedom of speech!"
" I do too, little punk!" Ray answered in rage.
" If you don't knock it off,
you will not see your baby elephant today!"
" Listen, old man I may be a tomboy,
but you have a foul smell and you need a shower!"
" I need a shower...you need to wipe off
that ugly, fat face of yours...what are you trying to do
with all that make-up: look like a cover girl?"
They finally got into a physical fight...
she splashed a bottle of water on the zoo-keeper,
and he wiped the heavy make-up off her face...
"Oh, this fun" she said with excitement...
" Yes, I am having fun too!" he confessed.
And they laughed hard at each other...
while the elephant and second grader danced.
"Babies are bits of stardust
blown from the hand of God."
Quote by _ Larry Barrette
Into our family, an angel has been born,
and I take pause from my sad deep mournful forlorn;
even, now baby makes sounds so musically,
an angel has been born, into our family.
And I love this sweet girl, she makes us all happy,
even, when taking a sleeping beauty nappy;
and one day our angel girl will swirl, whirl and twirl,
she makes us all happy, and I love this sweet girl.
Such a well dressed baby- we aunts do this and that,
she loves stories, music and playing pitty-pat;
oh, will she be a princess or tomboy maybe,
we aunts do this and that- such a well dressed baby.
It took just one little soul, to mend the broken,
with the birth of this baby girl God has spoken;
and I can imagine on green paths we will stroll,
to mend the broken, it took just one little soul.
__________________
September 05, 2022
Poetry/Swap Quatrain/Baby Angel Born
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1485-512-05
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Swap Quatrain
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 10/20/2022