Swing Poems - Poems about Swing

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One of my favorite places to be is my bench swing with a canopy I swing and float in the air Problems don't exist, they are no-where My swing, faces the backyard and beyond Sometimes rain puddles in the field, a pond A train of clouds often travel the open sky I lift my feet, while I watch them go by The...

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The Faded Garden Swing If the flaked paint on the old swing could speak, it would tell stories of days long ago, Of children's laughter and their bare, muddy feet, Of fireflies caught and imprisoned in empty jam jars, Like the fireflies, my memory flickers, trying to recall who lived across the street. The faded swing’s rusty chains...

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I like to swing higher than high Above the trees into the sky Someday I hope my feet will zoom Beyond the mist and touch the moon...

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Hey! Batter! Hey, hey batter! Hey! Batter, swing! There is the wind up. Here comes the pitch. Fastball, slider, curve, but which is which? Bases are loaded, it’s up to you… Swing for the fences! Do what you do! No one to help you. The ump is blind. There’s so much pressure. Two runs behind. You stand alone on the precipice. Give it your...

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A path of stones, I walk each day, With skies of grey and hopes that sway. The world feels heavy on my chest, Yet onward still, I must contest. Each step I take, a battle fought, Through webs of worry, I am caught. The dreams I chase seem far, remote, Yet still, I cling with fragile hope. The wind is cold, the road...

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Clouds and trees Animals and the bees High up in the air Swinging so freely I see it all The landscapes The moon and stars Are all surrounding me Legs dangling mid air Breeze blowing Hair flowing My hearts a singing with flair All while I’m swinging mid air I’m swinging high in the sky Close to the stars But not quite there The smile on my face I...

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An empty swing sways, lilting loneliness in the breeze, With no children in play, no laughter's squeal to please, Its rusty chain creaks a forlorn squeak for days gone by. Like lonesome clouds that linger longingly in the sky. The ropes are worn, the seat is torn, thread-bare. The swing swings a lonely dance, with no one there. It swings from...

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Sweet juices spilt Spring, free thee greeneries ye lands amend, then weave to Summer's eve  ere its proclaim windswept name, a said leave from Indian grabbed drum who beat the trees sown years to be, made wholly thick of leaves that fairs their surrender the length life cleave presence parting, color-filled glimpses, grieve end tone boughs under the rainbow it heaves. Promised life gift...

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Spring days, as a child, While grasping the ropes tightly, I soared heavenward. Now, decades later, I love Gliding gently while I read. ...

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Swing dance is fun, lively, playful Wing it with jazz and rock and roll music Impressive with lifts, dips, drops, leans Nailing the basic steps is the key Getting good at it is groovy ...

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When Patty was in the manic phase, she'd ignore dangers: She'd hold parties in her motel room for hordes of strangers. One of them she married after knowing him half a day - Did it occur that something could go wrong by acting that way? Who needs the wisdom of George Schwab, or boring investment schemes? She met two dudes...

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Simply made of rope and wood Tied to a tree, tight and good, Sit right down on the edge of my seat Hang on, then push back with your feet Lift your shoes off of the dirt Please, just once, what can it hurt, That branch is thick, my knots, strong I have been waiting for this, o, so long I've got you...

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The yellow plastic swing once hung From branches on a tree And we would push our daughter there, Not knowing what would be. For when a baby’s young, the future’s Filled with hope and dreams, Yet every path ahead may not be Easy as it seems. Still, as she grew, our daughter stayed A sweet and happy child And always on that yellow swing, She...

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The black clouds above Meant that it will rain today There'll be change of mood....

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