Nostalgia Poems | Examples of Nostalgia Poetry

I squeeze my eyelids narrow as I follow east The scarlet rays of dawn loom like a crouching beast That watches with a hunger neither harsh nor kind And breathes out living warmth into the sapling pines My path unfurls before me like a shaken sail Like wings as shy and boundless as the nightingale Like rivers drawn abroad by sloping...

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looking back to when I was a lad They said times were hard, They said things were bad. Picking up tatties, the pulling of peas Coming back home with scratched grimy knees. Screwing the Beetroot, yes that is right Removing the tops from morning till night. You couldn't cut the tops off, that made them bleed Keeping your eye out for the...

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Laying in a hammock Swaying back and forth Reminiscing long gone fun Remembering what was done. Sitting on a swing Poised above the ground In your eyes are tears About all the lost years. You can't fix the past But you can do this: Loathe? I don't think so Forgive your ex: let go!...

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Ring the bell-hop, how quaint Dial the Operator? – Translate! … Western Union’s clickety-clack, now faint alongside the sensory lure of wet paint All of these ~ today, ain’t ...

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Saturday Morning Routines** The familiar smell of wood smoke slowly filled my bedroom, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Through my window, I caught sight of the warm, flickering lights from the flambeau, casting dancing shadows on the walls. It was in that moment that I knew it was time to leave the warmth of...

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Mentally we rummage through Our trashcans of the past Viewing what was worthless When in that trash were cast: A milestone magazine we see in there Worth thousands in “green backs” now Oh my, if we had known The things that we now avow. Mountains of words we wished we’d said Lying in a dusty, useless heap Applicable now that time has passed But … didn’t...

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Fingers turn yesterday— paper sighs low, pressed petals, crooked keys, laughter fading into hush slowly. Vignette...

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POSTERITY© Long ago and far away We never thought we’d reach today Living long we never dreamed Could ever be as we had deemed But here we stand hand-in-hand It’s nothing like we might have planned Back then we’d not conceived Things of today could be believed. Tomorrow brings more wonderment Things of which we have no hint Sadly we won’t be allowed To have our minds...

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Memories of Formica kitchens And 2-burner Hotpoint stoves Lipstick on a menthol butt Costume pearls in rows Perfume from the five and dime Drive In’s on the field A promise made a promise kept And love — that time can’t steal (Listening To Patsy Cline: July 4th, 2025) ...

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Many paths lead away from home but only one leads back as the years sit salted upon the rack you find the path home has narrowed and turned from gates of iridescence to mirrors opaque and black- you arrive with exhaustion on your boots a feast of favorites on a favorite plate go upstairs to your yellow crib have those unreachable dreams again\ things...

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Pixie within the pink let me swirl your tyranny into the high-octaved melody of my earliest endurance Right as the clock ticked to six, the creaking sound of my mother’s war cry made me bury myself under the blankets. Laying on the pretty quilted baby pink sheets as the pillow moulded to my head’s shape, opening my soul’s...

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Its breaking.... Under sea. Underneath, I lost all feeling, Do fish not feel the rod piercing? Sometimes I was too Vulnerable breakable fragile young small tiny, me. I'm getting tired I'm too weary to surface. Resilience, is not a word but a death sentence of irony plates I breathe in. Hey, do you wish to see the worse in me, the abyss snaps the frame, Inner child... its frozen eye... I still feel, morning train, a rush through, what couldn't who wouldn't save me. - - - - - - - - - - -...

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Song: "Yesterday", The Beatles Yesterday I had lots of fun with Sugar Ray, Now the neighbors yell out words like ‘gay’. Oh I believe in yesterday. ...

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Life might have taken away my ability to dance But it didn't take out my rhythm That's why even on my chair I'm all groovy and fully turned up I might not hold your hand and spin you around But I can buy you lovely dresses So that as you pirouette It rolls around you like the cupcake you are I might...

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Six besties had agreed at graduation, pinky swore, to meet ten years later no matter where they'd be, come what may. And here they were finally: Gayle, Suzie, Diane, Donna, Lucy, Michelle, together at last from across the country. They had kept in touch through facebook as much as their busy schedules allowed. All had gone off to university or college. Some had since married, some had...

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