Written: January 23, 2026, for contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
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Youth celebrated small dreams…
Glass marbles, stolen guava,
And dawn cartoons on schooldays;
How my courage thinned so quick,
On long evenings spent hiding
Those loud, know-it-all cousins…
Then became their preferred myth.
The auld fella’s auld fella left the tech
after Ripening for sixteen summers.
Camden-Wagon-Gravity landed a
shovel and a pick at his lonely boots.
‘DIG’. he knew that Language. and by God
did he dig. there is a dignity
in breaking your back To Stuff A Ganger’s
Pockets, And His Belly With Rich Porter.
That aching rhythm of pick and shovel
Made certain - he would never reach his height.
sure look at him now, all stooped and bended
A Tunneller’s Posture. There Is A Man!
Breaking New Ground, Smashing Sediment and
Poverty. With every drive, slam and crack
You made Certain we would never go back.
Thanks to underground suffering and penance
and pain. Schoolday’s are over.
You’ve broken the Chain.
Jean-Jacques Sempe
penned a cartoon everyday
The Petit Nicholas was his theme
bio of schooldays it would seem
The memories come back
like the rainbow after the rain
with all the hues and shades of color
and an unending train
the Bougainvillea tree nearby
my parents house where I grew up
did not ask me my name
she embraced me as she had done
in my schooldays in
every way the same
the little squirrel just now
tip-toed down the lane
looking at the spectacle
unfolding in the rain
after all these years
I have come back to my parents home
the clouds have different shapes
but the air smells the same ...
Memory - that trickster of time
that gives us glimpses, pictures sublime
of rose tinted schooldays, birthdays and more
sandcastled weekends and Christmas of yore.
Yet, seems to paint over the guilt and the pain,
the bullying schoolboy, the weekend of rain.
The empty feeling of love unspoken,
or else the confusion of friendships broken.
As if we need to remember the good
and not the rotten and old dead wood.
Like an old game show that plays in your mind,
a sepia movie that runs in rewind,
a cheesy Presenter says, "Let's see how you've done!
These are the prizes you could have won!"
Can you recall being in school?
The clock, whose hands, never seemed to move!
The scent of fresh pencil shavings, m-m-m.
A box of new crayons to not only open, but to smell.
The desks we had, actually had inkwells, we used fountain
pens.
Add the beauty of a fresh notebook on which to write.
Learning to use a ruler, what glorious fun.
Some of us really learned to read the "Dick and Jane" series.
We actually had a real Christmas tree~ ah, that scent of
childhood's sparkling magnificence.
Our wide-eyed innocence~
And yes, we could sing of Jesus and angels.
His presence was allowed to swell our souls with hope and joy.
We had no idiotic questions, such as are you a girl or a boy?
No girl ever got pregnant, there was such a thing as chastity.
Who ever heard of murdering a baby?
Thankfully....not in my day, not me.
I give thanks for these simpler times.
I don't know how children can grow up sane anymore.
When morality is trashed and relativity is forever praised
and knocking at their childhood's door.
February 2, 2020
3pm PST
Expectations balanced on years passed
Childhood fading schooldays are last.
In the eyes of the world your decisions are true
Your heart palpitates and you stumble through.
Life was once easy, adults took care
Now it’s just me, there’s nobody there.
You grow and you yearn for the age to come
Now you want back to when you were young.
With freedom , responsibility plays
Leaves you longing for all of those carefree days
summer is coming
Schooldays are all but over
the bells will stop ringing soon.
the children will be yelling all day long as they play.
summer is coming
hot dogs and swimming
baseball and hamburgers
as the days get hotter.
summer is coming
fire up the RV for that camping trip.
to the water park we must go.
bike riding and horseshoes
bake bean and ice cream cones.
summer is coming
when will school start again??
days go bye..
setting here waiting as the days go bye.
nothing to do but look at you as the days go bye.
fun times are long but not forgotten as the days go bye
schooldays have past and so have friends as the days go bye.
growing old each day year by year as the days go bye.
now is the time to leave and let the next one wait as the days go bye
As a five year old first day at school
I first clapped eyes on you
Looking big and nobodies fool
Wanted you, to look at me too
Girls were a nuisance
I once heard you say
Tried to keep my distance
To stay far away
Through schooldays kept my cool?
Heart ached for just a smile
Didn't want to look a fool
Yet I acted quite infantile
Now as a teenager with my heart on my sleeve
Not interested in me, I was told most tender
He held my hand speaking low so I'd believe
That your interests were for another gender
Its JUST another bruise, another cut
JUST about time you kept your mouth shut
Only JUST walked in, through the front door
One minute standing, then JUST fell to the floor
Should have said where id JUST been
Kept a smiling face that JUST turned mean
Never started out to END like this
Two teenagers END the night with a kiss
She was sixteen, and at schooldays END
The END of childhood married her best friend
Love seems forever no END in sight
Wedding night passion ENDs in a fight
IT all continued, and just got worse
Her happy ever after, IT often hurt
Strange situations left IT often sad
He turned IT around and his fists got mad
Tonight he went at IT hard
Said my cheating had found ITs reward
So the last thing I say is IT JUST had to END
And it did tonight with Ambulance men
No pulse, no breath, no life in me.
At last my wish, just to be free
I remember the painting, with a heavy heart....I
remember my best friend Valerie, how we sat and talked.
which was beating the most my heart or the sun
as in the shade of my red parasol
memories of my lost love drench my thoughts.
How we looked up at the golden cliffs
when we walked the seashore.
the sea in all its glory like a millpond,
just rolling rippling waves as it hit the shore,
how I sat there with my dear friend from schooldays
remembering those times long ago,...those
sunny days are etched into my soul.
we sat on the cliff top with my red parasol
shading my head and my heart,
consoling myself with thoughts, remembering
the seaweed smell of the sea we had both loved,
life would be so wonderful I related to my friend
if only.......!!!
Penned 22/6/2016
Contest. The Red Parasol
In my schooldays I had a stream to sit on its bank in cool air
Tender fingers moving in my hair with grace in the form fair
As I grew up the stream disappeared in order to make room
For the needs of her moving times with new stems and bloom
The other day an elderly lady called at my office with her team
At first I was taken aback and then kept looking at the stream
The same sparkle a little diffused in the eyes still lingers
In my bald head I felt restlessness for the reassuring fingers
For some moments I was focused on my memory shred
Moist eyes looking in her face and blossom in purple and red
________________________________________________________
May 21, 2016
For: Last Line Prompt – 2 – Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Embrace the new technologies,
acquiring knowledge as your goal,
in the realm of search and seizure
feed your mind, refresh your soul.
Social Media and bloggers,
irritants in cyber space
will whore themselves for your attention,
waste your time, usurp your place.
In my youth, before the outbreak,
schooldays were much simpler then,
homework, classwork, all handwritten,
essays done in fountain pen.
You fire up your fancy lap tops,
Facebook, Twitter, Cyber Talk,
while I give thanks for ink wells, pen nibs,
blotting paper, sticks of chalk.
Mirror of memories
As he stands by me,
wonder if he is the one?
my first love ?
Subtle emotions of schooldays, classroom,
Those moments
of togetherness in canteen,
For one cup of coffee,
teasings and laughter,
I remember everything ....
But for the missing person,
Is he the one ?
Tears roll down
as he kisses my cheek,
Emotions outburst
I thank him for being with me,
His passionate looks
and I find him helpless,
Is something wrong with me that he knows ?
I dare not ask him
and reciprocate a kiss,
Probably a blackout
some faded memories,
Trust not erased ?
I maybe tired or sleepless,
but sure will be able to recall and cherish,
Some of his images ....
that I once embraced,
Just for once..,
I again close my eyes tight,
hold my warm breaths that mist
the mirror of my memories,
For one last search within myself
in my head and my soul !
Written Nov 20th, 2015
For contest "Alzheimer's"
Sponsor- Tammy reams
Awarded HM
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