once upon a time
in the fifties and sixties
school playgrounds had small merry-go-rounds
and teeter totters aka seesaws
our slides were as tall as our nine story school house
safety was not a big deal
no one wore helmets or kneepads
our job was to play
have adventures and love our life
I miss those playgrounds
Categories:
playgrounds, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
discarded kites cemented on trees and
abandoned playgrounds with broken swings
must have been brothers in another life
with a mother who wasn't theirs
and a father who wasn't home
or were they calamitous lovers
the sun, and the moon
only to realise one is inferior; sun is a star too
or
or did they trade their lives for love
did they ever meet again?
someone is certainly exceeding me and
im certainly falling behind
were we, vulgar strangers
in our forgone lives?
indifferent because our similarities didn't echo
i don't know about you
but i must have been a madman
roaming around with a longing to be found
can a universe apart bring
you together if you're meant to be?
Categories:
playgrounds, 11th grade, feelings,
Form: Free verse
The playgrounds are empty mid-July
Sun makes the equipment scorching hot
Enough to make naked legs literally fry
No children today with a piercing cry,
Moms say when dusk comes they'll try
Again, in the park, to appease their tot
The playgrounds are empty mid-July
Sun makes the equipment scorching hot!
Written July 22, 2022
Categories:
playgrounds, children, fun, july, summer,
Form: Triolet
SUMMERTIME PLAYGROUNDS Haiku
cheerful summertime
those the children so wallows
before the playgrounds
8/12/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021 ©
Categories:
playgrounds, 1st grade, 2nd grade,
Form: Haiku
Sunday afternoons,
or Saturday afternoons,
look and feel richer,
dense relational liturgy of mundane ritual,
often more sabbath quiet.
Quiet neighborhood school playground
celebrates more solitary visits
seeking silent sensory selftalk,
muse swings back and forth,
happy slides up elational,
processional,
then downright ecstatic.
Sunday's GratitudeGoRound
of a warm winter's sun
pretexting Spring's redemptive dance,
prancing across wet jungle gyms
of mythic pirate romance,
swinging Tarzans and Janes
flying rope to rope
bar to bar
beating outdoor kettle drums
of Sunday's sacred playground joy.
This light we bring to sabbath
Sunday's sun absorbs
full resolved through echoing play,
a child again
in love's sequestered Solar System womb
giving happy birth to weeks
becoming strong,
EarthBound PlayGround
ecstatically beloved
Queen Shabbat's weekly baptism
in love child's regenerativity.
Categories:
playgrounds, culture, heaven, humanity, light,
Form: Free verse
Remember...
Parties in vast, secluded fields,
Bonfires,
Kegs of beer...
Unwitting parents believing we were
God knows where...
Remember...
Your touch so gentle, stroking
My golden brown hair,
Driving me home ~ majorette practice...
The intellectual jock in the souped-up
Dark green Chevy Impala ~ so splendid...
Remember...
Listening to "Sister Golden Hair"..."Daisy Jane"...
Funny how the Night Moves in woods...
With pounding rain...our omen
To hasten home,
My dad waiting...door opened...
Remember...
You walked miles to see me
By my pool wearing but a tiny white
"Do Not Tailgate" string bikini...
Our initial gateway to passion...
I wonder...
Was it love, or simply raging pheromones..........................
Written for Timmy...................
Categories:
playgrounds, adventure, friendship, happiness, love,
Form: Free verse