Playground Poems - Poems about Playground

Today, my mind is a playground of thoughts. If one thought exhausts another, maybe they would cease to exist— but today, they multiply. Today, my thoughts have become a burden. In the chaos of my mind, I search for new literature, new words to anchor my restless soul. I am a writer. I don’t need food to nourish me, nor shelter to shield me, nor breath...

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In Playground of Imagination Us being kids with no boundaries Just feeling the warmth Caused by sun for us Thanking god for his creation For bearing our clowneries With guts to face any storms Gaining anything with our fuss. Not caring about duration Stop being in mouseries Standing together in all forms Solving every problem of truss. ...

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In the playground of imagination, She converses with the elements, They obey her commands, The sun opens a door for her, And she steps into a world filled with daylight and mystery. Every house glows with a distinct light, And the glory of the sun banishes sickness and disease....

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I'll climb the tallest mountains with no stress, I just need~ a helmet, rope, and other climbing gear, warm layers, good boots, maybe some fear, a bit of my heart in my mouth, to chase the butterflies from my belly— no need to fight against my shadow~ it'll be too tight upon the rock, wrapped ...

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In strokes vigorous, I swim a river of dreams And reach a magic citadel without seams. This is not built in stones or brick, But with imagination’s wonderful trick. In silent whispers, ideas sprout and bloom Painting colours on walls of my mind’s room ...

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Come with me to my favorite place in playground of imagination. It’s such a beautiful happy space to experience any sensation. Rainbows above you burst in the sky. Your thoughts and feelings have colors, you see and here your muse will never run dry because from the real world you flee. Metaphors on monkey bars swing. Hyperbole hangs from them too. Be like a bird,...

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A vivid imagination Build a castle in top of a tree ...

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Hiding inside a box While my rivers run wild Gardens dance to my tunes Songs sung in a voiceless mode Eyes sparkle with shiny stars Poems bleed on empty pages Mundane structures matter not Love, free, extols of itself Suffering, once heavy, gets shed off And a thousand moons illuminate the nights Hiding inside a box While my rivers run wild Evergreen forests Fairies' delight Rainbows sparkle with gurgling...

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Each thing, for me, is an art and design. In each grain, I see a sign of the divine. I see and muse on each feat uniquely. I draw each line and sketch antiquity. I search, explore, and examine the truth. With tests and trials, I shun all that's uncouth. Happy end or sad end—I play each play. In the gauge of...

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The question is, should I listen to my imagination? Sometimes it can go very wild, I look for a lion ready to eat me alive. There are times it can go romantic, with hearts and love all over the page. It has a way of bringing up my old memories, some happy, maybe sad, or funny as can be. In Playground of Imagination, I...

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In my playground of imagination, I think about the game dodge ball and all the skeptical, harmful, things I dodged in life I think about hopscotch, as I hopped over hurdles, laughed at the outcome I think of the game capture the flag and I cherish the dreams I captured I remember my pink hula hoop, as I learned...

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Each day I wake as if I hold a sable brush in my hand ready to paint upon a canvas what cannot be planned. Or a pen to write about fantasies and adventures I find in playground of imagination, I clearly see in my mind when my mental imagery decides it wants to run wild. I envision illusions of life...

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The relentless pressure of ev'rything demands ev'ry ounce of my attention. Once I sailed a sea that delight could bring, alas, in a world of my invention. Wives, bosses, finances, loom like bludgeons - momentarily, I avoid failure. Alone, in a dark and joyless dungeon, there's no success for this erstwhile sailor. My own expectations stab...

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As a kid, I had a brilliant plan— Become a dentist! Be The Man! White coat, big bucks, drills that whir... Then I saw my cousin’s clinic—Brrr! The smell alone could curl your soul, I noped right out, no toothy goal. Next up: Baseball! I had the swing! A...

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forgotten by time a playground of cobwebs thousands of footprints I made in the sand a lifetime ago once so alive with activity and merriment now a deserted place haunted by lingering ghosts the silence, deafening reverberating e c h o e s of...

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