Home » Poems » Best » Julia Hill » Best Julia Hill Poems

Best Poems Written by Julia Hill

Below are the all-time best Julia Hill poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Julia Hill Poem

Down, Down Baby: Remembering When

There's something magical that happens when 
you are 10 years old, chasing butterflies, 
skipping stones, riding little pink bicycles
with streamers and white baskets on the handle 
bars with a big yellow sunflower on the front.

Roller skating down the street that looks like it
would swallow you whole, and revisit that same
street as an adult and think as you smile to yourself,
 "what was all the fuss about?" 

Remembering when-

The wind flowed through your tangled hair, because
when you were 10 you weren't worried if the boys seen
you with a "bad hair day!" 

Remembering hop scotch, and jumping rope.
Playing jacks, and sipping cokes.
Reminded of honeysuckle scented vines, 
picking a few and licking the honey right then 
and there. 

Not a care in the world. 

Me and my best friend singing as loudly as we
could "Down, down baby, down by the roller coaster.
Sweet, sweet baby, I'll never let you go."  Clapping our 
hands in perfect timing with the other, like a well oiled
machine. Never missing a beat. Going faster and faster
until our little hands and arms were worn out.

Climbing that big tree in her mom's back yard. We 
both climbed to the tree top, with her mom
yelling out the door, not realizing we were about 50 feet
in the air. We would giggle and she would tell 
us to come down, and we did. Even thought we didn't 
want to. She must have been horrified knowing we were
that high in the tree.

(We were 6 at that time)

Some of the most fun times I had as a child were with 
her. We even fought over who was going to be Shaun 
Cassidy's girlfriend. She always won, because I always 
seemed to give in, and take the other guy, just to keep
peace. Even though I was sad she didn't want to share
with me.

(I honestly didn't care, I just secretly wanted to like him
with her as if we were one soul, one heart. BFF's forever)

Because-

We did everything together.

Then we grew up.

Lost touch.
Regained it.
Had children.
Lost it again.
Found it once more.


Now  here we meet again, instead of 10, we are 38, nearing
the 40 mark.
I still love her today, as I did in 1974. When we first
met in kindergarten.

I've spent my lifetime thus far with her in it somewhere, either
in my heart or on my mind. 

We can still make each other laugh hysterically.

Remembering when, yet making new memories today.

Now there's just something magical about that.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

Future Me.

Stranded. 
Left alone with only my 
thoughts to keep me company. 
Yet still- 
They aren't helping me to smile. 
[right away] 

I'll be 38 tomorrow.... and I think 
to myself- 
"Why isn't my life where I thought it 
would be when I was 20?" 

Sometimes, 
I know I kept along the regular route. 
Then other times, 
I knew I followed the path less 
traveled. 
[those were the hardest lessons] 

But much valued and needed. 

I see my life as simply...... 
"mine." 
I know no one has the exact same one 
as me. 
Not my child, nor my husband, 
or my siblings. Not anyone. 

We blend, but only as if to merge into 
oncoming traffic, with stop, go's and 
cautions. 

I'm reminiscent now. 

I miss my parents. 
I feel they would be proud of the woman 
I've become. 
[that brings a smile, easily] 

I'm proud too, of the woman who has 
yet to emerge from me, and who I 
know will be an asset to my life. 

The me less afraid. The me I lost 
somewhere along the way. 

The future me. 

The one with the scars that are healed 
and the tear stained cheeks. 
The wrinkles around my mouth, 
from the millions of 
smiles, and the gray hair that has 
yet to blossom through my brown hair. 

Yes I'll be 38 tomorrow, and I know 
how blessed I am, and how blessed 
I'll be also, when I'm 60. 

I'm happy, and sad. 
But content with 
how well I've done with little or no help 
from others. 
I am strong, yet weak when needed. 
I know for sure that the past me, 
met with the present me, and now I look 
forward to the things to come.... 

Happy Birthday future me.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

If I Were An Ocean:

If I were an ocean...
Would you sail upon me?

If I were a diamond...
My sparkle you'd see?

If I were a raindrop...
Would you wish me dry?

If I were a shoe lace...
My strings would you tie?

If I were a hummingbird...
Would you hum along?

If I were a melody....
Would you help write our song?

If I were true love in all of it's glory...
Would you share your torn heart, 
could you tell of it's story?

For without you, I could, would not know...
My soul would be dark, and empty, so cold.

So when the dew falls, early morn', with
the sun rise...
You will recognize your soul, when you 
see through my eyes.

If Iove was our ocean...
I'd ebb and you'd tide.

Perfect waves forming...
Rushing under blue skies.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

Letting Go, Free Fall

Why can't I just let go....

of....

That thin line of string I 
so desperately hold onto,
that is tied around the ventricals
of your heart, and hemmed around
the edging of my soul.

Melded together, sewn as one.

The tiny string that can still move me to 
tears.....  
With just the mere thought of it 
breaking in two.

{I try to remember why it is 
I am fighting this hard}

But at times I just forget.
At least for that second....

Then it hits me....
{like a race car ramming into a wall
at 180 miles an hour; crashing}

I fight to stay on top.

On top of this love....
{but my legs won't hold me
any longer against the rope}

I feel it.....

I am....

Struggling, feet slipping,
Hands trembling, heart thumping.

Finally,
releasing......

I want to jump. Fly away free.
Like an eagle's wing, drifting, weightlessly
into blue sky.

Clenched fists cannot soar, only scab up, and lose
their gloss.

Abandon and barren,
free falling amongst the 
leaves from brittle limbs.

Letting go.

Yes, it is time.....

I just don't know if I can.

{promise me you won't let me fall?}

Details | Julia Hill Poem

.deserving.Hurt.

I'm forever bound within your chained heart

{free me, please}


and yet,

Even though you let me go-

I can't seem to fly right without your melancholy.


You let me go, and yet I still hold on...


For-


one glimpse
one smile
one touch
one maybe
one night



I still hold on for you-
but hate,
Letting go for me.


If this pain is love-



Hurt me forever



I deserve it.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

Abstract Heart

A color wheel that seemingly stops on deep blue
Yet, shading and lighting every color, every hue
of the essence of what makes you, you
"A bright shining star in abstract anew."

Your heart the colors, and your soul the wheel
Spinning and landing on all emotions you feel
Casting out negative wasteful times, replaced
with a positive state of mind.
"Learning and listening all the while."

Blended together, all your colors they shine
You're an abstract work of [he]art, a rare
beauty defined.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

The Outcast-

Long blonde hair
A pageant queen beauty 
On stage she smiles
Yet-
Inside, she's brooding.

Girl in the hallway
Glasses an inch thick
Smart as Einstein
But-
Lacking true spirit.

Young woman there
Hair black as night
Nails used for earrings
Still-
No one would ever know 
she cries, every night.

Little miss popular,
Big breasts, perfect skin
Who gets all the guys
Never letting on that 
She isn't that happy 
And-
She tells them all lies.

Rich little daddy's girl
Drives up in the Benz
No one knows she sits 
Lonely on holidays
With no food and no gifts
Just the maid and some gin.

Labels we see... never
Looking beyond.
We place them on each
We laugh, we torture,
Then.....
we turn the other cheek.

It doesn't really matter
if you are rich or you're poor
The loneliness, it isn't picky
Or discriminate
Because of our decor.

We are all the same inside
Girl afraid, woman trying.

Hearts beating heavily
While our souls
continue crying.

I just wish one day

We all could just 
Stop.
Stop the hurting.

So my advice is simply this:

If you see someone you think,
Looks like an outcast to you
Please remember to give a smile
Because one day that girl.....

{On the stage, in the corner
With the glasses, or the fancy ride
Black nails, heartbreaker or the liar}





Could be you.





Wouldn't you want someone to

See the outcast girl too?





-This was inspired by my teen daughter who at the moment, feels
like the outcast-

Details | Julia Hill Poem

She Wasn'T Ready

His threats weren't fake, like she thought
He tried to take his life.... 
He said that he would, she just laughed it off.
Then he swallowed the poison, and let
it eat away at his insides......

She didn't believe him....
She didn't want to think he 
would ever be that cruel.
She didn't know what to do
or say....
She was barely out of middle 
school.

(How can a thirteen year old girl
Be thought of as a woman?
How could he have treated her
as if she were so much older?)

She didn't grasp the concept, or understand
his strange ill will....
She was lost and oh so confused, thinking,
he would climb over that gruesome hill.

He wanted her to be with him....
She could only tell him no.
She wasn't ready for that kind of 
commitment,
she still needed her time to grow.

He ran away and hid..... went behind 
the building to take a swig.
A swig of some liquid acid, and told her 
if he couldn't have her, then he didn't 
want to live.

The girl stood there thinking, "oh my God!"
what has he done?
She thought he was only bluffing...
But he wasn't...
The deed was done.

The ambulance, it came that night......
She cried, and fell upon her knees.
For had she known he needed help,
she would have tried her best to see.

He survived but had to be taken away
for a few months, and needed time to heal.
They talked on the phone every night, she tried
her best, to keep in touch with him.

She walked to a phone booth just to call him,
each and every day....
He came home about a month or two later,
Neither one knowing what to say.

They hugged awhile, and she kissed him sweetly
and he smiled into her eyes......
She knew it was over, as did he.... and somehow
without speaking the words, said their final goodbye.

She hasn't seen him since the fall, of 1982....
but she's never forgotten what he did that night,
It is always on her mind..... it haunts her still.

So let that be a lesson to all you girls
who think you're so grown up....
When you are only thirteen years old, dating 
guys nineteen, you just aren't ready for that stuff.




This is a true story. 

I know it is true, because the
she in the story.....

Was me.


(This is a very personal and delicate piece, tread lightly please.) 
Thank you.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

...Love Tie...

I wish I could tie you around my finger tip 
like a forget me not ribbon.
Soft shiny, yellow bow slightly leaning yet 
beaming with the brilliance from
your glow.

I would remember why it is I loved you then, 
as I love you now, 
unwrapping the tiny bow......

Reminding me of.......

Your intoxicating scent, breathing you in..... 
capturing your moment in time through my lens.
Those dark brooding eyes, staring back at me. 
Melting my heart.

Knowing exactly what you're thinking just by 
staring into them.
Smiling trusting that feeling of knowing how 
easily I can read your heart
like an open book, and feel your soul as if it 
were my very own.

I would give nothing and everything, just to 
feel something, feel you close.
With you, once, twice, forever.
For a brief second, or minute....
To feel your fingers tracing my lips, down my 
chin, down my neck, down my stomach to my hips. 

-Pulling me close to you-

Your breath thickening, my pulse quickening
Tender moments unleashed as if they were tyrants on
a rampage, waging a war against humble servants and 
destroying any fear within their souls, their minds, 
their hearts. Our battle field, our endless fight 
for love.

{That is your love, and how it speaks to me.
That is you, tormenting me with your tenderness.
That is you and I as one, our love fighting
then merging into an oblivion. 
Casting aside our minions.....
Losing sight of the almost forgotten passion.
These tired bones, this shivering skin, aching 
to be sculpted by your da Vinci like hands}

Molding me into you...

I tie the bow once more...... 

Pulling it apart, I smile
and sigh......

I remember, and tie it once again.

Details | Julia Hill Poem

The Hobo Butterfly

I've been worried lately.

I cry inside, and my smile 
is just above the surface of
my lips.

Often I'm afraid someone 
may see that it isn't always
the genuine smile I claim it 
to be.

I don't see me; accomplished, 
and
I don't see failure either.

I see someone who is 
stuck-

With seemingly no way to
scramble out. 
To wriggle free, and spread 
her wings....
As if emerging from inside of
a coccoon. 
A butterfly, transformed
from that of a lowly caterpillar.
Yet still afraid to fly, but longing
to soak up the wind blowing upon
her fragile newborn wings.

I wish sometimes I were a hobo.

Where my only worry would be
when I could hop the next train;
destination unknown.

No distractions.
No worries.

Just me and the train.

Nothing but the roar of the 
wheels humming against the track.
Vibrations coming through the steel 
of the rail car, into the pit of my being.

My bones rumbling.
My core trembling.
My soul shaken.
My heart, mending.

My wings finally, 
fluttering.

When that train stops:
(I will)
Fly away free.