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Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

Here is a list of Nostalgia Poems. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.

12qw34er56tyonline today!

I blink my eyes and wish to see you

I closed my eyes, wanting to see him

My palms intertwine with his palms

I swear to God I will not leave you

I hope it stays in my country


You ignore me and torture me

Look with your eyes and have mercy on me

I hope you stay in front of me

And everything in the world I don't want

When you are with me


What is the fear of separation?



And I worry about leaving me


Believe me since the day I saw him

I have never known a night's sleep

Honey drips from your lips

I love listening to your words
And your smile and your cheeks are like roses

When I saw you I was fine

Young, sweet and loyal

With his look, give me my evidence

And the pulse becomes double


O son of people, listen to me

Enough foreplay and madness

I love you and I want you to love me

I hope you stay in my country
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Posted: May 7
About this poem:
The old school way of love
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Jaded_Ravenonline today!

This Old House

The old white house upon the hill
Holding past memories that linger still
Stained glass windows faced the park
Soft gaslights that glowed in the dark

Built at the turn of the century
In a different era from our memory
An historic legacy from those passed on
Embracing simplicity in a time long forgone

In the back a garden of Iris's grew
In the front were Lilies and Daffodils
Violets and Impatiens filled the windowsills
Adding a colored ambience to the outside view

An old wooden swing hung on the porch
A perfect pondering, peaceful place to perch
To watch the passersby on the street below
And sip wine while you contemplated Thoreau

Days were spent engaged in a joyful family affair
With lawn games, books, wagons, trikes and bikes
Children’s giggles and laughter filled the air
Full of love and personal likes and dislikes

Memories bring tears as they come flooding in
Visions of a life lost in the passages of time
Remembered in lines of this rhyme
All that was and could have been

Lives lived in time within the muraled rooms
Looking back to all the remembrances we own
Games played in costumes, dolls, balloons, bubbles and cartoons
The precious memories of that old house lives in our hearts as home

Wishing for a solitary moment somehow
That it could be the past, here and now
Healing parts that need to be whole
While strengthening our souls

Jade Anjoun
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Posted: May 5
About this poem:
Memories of a time long ago raising my daughters.
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12qw34er56tyonline today!

Did they tell you?

Did they tell you?

My eyes do not sleep in your absence.. Did they tell you?

After you, my heart refused to speak. Did they tell you?

How did I get lost in the crowd? Did they tell you?

My heart attempts to escape to you to read peace upon you. Did they tell you?

Life after you will be long hours and days of suffering. They would be lying if they told you

Without you I'll be fine
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 3
About this poem:
When we remember the separation of our loved ones after their death
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12qw34er56tyonline today!

never regret the treachery of time

Do not be sorry for the treachery of time. Dogs have always danced on the corpses of lions. They do not think that by their dancing they are superior to their masters. Lions remain lions and dogs are dogs. Lions die in the forests of hunger and mutton are eaten by dogs. An ignorant person may sleep on silk and a person with knowledge covers dirt. Eternity is two days of security and one is dangerous. And living is two days. It is clear and turbid. Do you not see the sea with carcasses rising above it and resting in the farthest bottom of its pearls? And in the sky there are stars without number, and nothing is eclipsed except the sun and the moon. We blame our time, and the fault is in us, and there is no fault in our time except us. And we approach that time without sin, even if time spoke against us, and the wolf does not eat the flesh of a wolf and eat each other. With our eyes, let the days do what they want, heal your soul when the judgment rules, and do not be dismayed by the events of the nights, for the events of this world do not last, and be a man of fortitude against horrors, and your mark is tolerance and loyalty, and if your faults are many in the wilderness, and you are pleased to have a cover for them, cover them with generosity, for every fault is covered, as it was said, by generosity, and never see the enemies as humiliated. For the gloating of enemies is a affliction. Do not hope for forgiveness from a stingy person. For there is water in the fire for the thirsty. Your sustenance is not diminished by patience, nor is sustenance increased by hardship. There is no lasting sadness and no joy. There is no misery for you and no prosperity. If you have a contented heart, then you and the owner of the world are the same. And whoever is struck by death, there is no earth to protect him. Neither the sky nor the earth of God is spacious, but when the judge descends, the space is narrow. Let the days deceive every now and then, for there is no substitute for death as medicine.
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Posted: Apr 17
About this poem:
It is a vertical poem composed by Imam Al-Shafi’i, who is Abu Abdullah Muhammad bin Idris Al-Shafi’i. Among the most prominent topics covered in the poem are the following: the fluctuations of conditions for people in time, as there is no regret about that. The fluctuation of circumstances does not change the status and value of people. He mentioned some examples of the treachery of time, such as the ignorant sleeping on silk, while the learned sleeps on dirt. The poet's emphasis is that time has nothing to do with what happens, and it is wrong to criticize it, but the matter is up to human action. The call to be satisfied with destiny and destiny, and not to be afraid, as nothing remains as it is. The call to display the qualities of manhood and morals, and no matter how bad a person has qualities, he must cover them up with generosity and giving. The call not to gloat over enemies, or ask for a favor from a miser. Sustenance is written and destined, and calls for contentment and contentment. The inevitability of death....Written about 1200 years ago
Written by Imam Al-Shafi’i, translated by artificial intelligence
Birth: 150 AH / 767 AD
Gaza, Palestine, the Levant, Abbasid Empire Death on the last night of Rajab 204 AH/820 AD
Egypt, The Abbasid Empire Burial Place Imam Shafi’i Dome Landmarks Imam Shafi’i Mosque Nickname Abu Abdullah Title Renewed Imam, scholar of the era, champion of hadith, imam of Quraysh, jurist of the faith Religion Islam Children Abu Uthman, Abu Al-Hasan, Fatima, and Zainbal Father Idris bin Al-Abbas bin Uthman bin Shafi’ bin Al-Sa’ib bin Ubaid bin Abd Yazid bin Hashim bin Al-Muttalib bin Abd Manaf
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ladyjewel

The Dragonfly

Once a beautiful thing so free and open, the wind lifting her wings into the air.

She's curled up on a pile of sand, the space in her back for the key is empty and a hole remains.

The key forever in His hands.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2023
About this poem:
Deeply lost.
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Pentdragon

Second chances

Only human, that is who I am....
Lost at sea....drifting wood....swallowed by waves....crushing over me....choices was made.....wrongly accused....loved by few.....broken by millions....walls was build with bricks that turned into steel....loneliness eats away like razor sharp teeth.....dreaming and wishing for a second chance....to be truly loved & accepted with all my flaws.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 5
About this poem:
It is about myself....life's choices and supposedly loved one's that turned out to be in love with their own reflections.
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surrender00

even when your gone carry on

this song goes out t each and everyone of you

your beautiful

g'day australia

this song is just for you in me feel good cause your intresting and i care about you
and everything you do your important lets get together forever you and me your beautiful and always will be work for me and rule the world cause you can and i like that



from the rubble of your love

e-mail me baronsamadi00@mail.com

your friend best friend

mark morris
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 29
About this poem:
your fantastic
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surrender00

in my dreams

hold this close your mind and embed it to your heart cause your the best
and you can thats fantastic this about you

stay forever who you are forever ever in my dreams cause your worth it

sway gently in the breeze forever in my dreams because your perfect

in my dreams you were perfect

over

its the real connection listen to and understand that i do care about you your happiness your feelings and your life cause your a women and important



stay forever who you are cause i care

your friend mark

e-mail me baronsamadi00@mail.com
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 29
About this poem:
it kinda makes me nervous friend
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ReaderOfSoulsonline today!

The Little House That Grew Into A Home

Pen me a future, pen me a life,
Write about cowboys, a man and a wife,
Make her a "looker" who's all "can do",
Build him rugged, with "want to".

Give me a family with lots of stay
That'll sure enough tough it- not move away
Cut out a herd for them to graze,
Manage this ranch in holistic ways.

Hang family pictures upon the wall
And sweat stained Stetsons in the hall,
Round-up boys with guns and knives
Show 'em the Lord to run their lives.

Move giggling girls in upstairs
Let them play dress-up and put on airs,
Then ride bareback in the rain
Racing up and down the lane.

Paint me white and trim me blue
Fix my roof and windows too
Ring a bell at dinner time,
Hang a rope for kids to climb.

Tend my garden, make it grow
Mount solar and watch me glow
Fence the yard and mow the grass,
Wave to neighbors as they pass.

Clutter my backroom with cowboy tack
A freezer of beef and spuds in a sack,
Add the smell of coffee perks
Line my shelves with classic works.

Fill me up with Christmas cheer
Pop a cork to start the year,
Ride a toboggan down my hill,
Drink hot cocoa to fight the chill.

Throw a party for the thrill of it
Gather friends, turn beef on a spit,
Choose pie or cake to top your plate,
Oh, such fun! I can hardly wait!

Tune a fiddle and start the dance
Then I'll have had another chance,
You'll then have your cowboy poem,
The Little House That Grew Into A Home.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
What fills a home. Mary asked me to post this for her.
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Angeldanceronline today!

Pipe Dreams Woven

Golden letters swirl along, their magickal energies mingling
Dancing, twirling, pirouetting to the piper's melodies
On the breath of air that captivating one poised quill
Of the wordsmith as it stands poignantly to attention
Language clear and consicely woven to their new ability
Words weighted and whispers yearning to be heard
A sound that is half-spoken, softly sung, knowing that
What's been written has been done to the extremes of
The quill that screams as it stresses the powerful strain
Of Magic within its power, and all it needs is a finishing touch
Where the rhymes can speak for themselves, emphasizing, Hot
Too much?

As the piper concludes his Scottish tracks,
The words form a message saying 'God has got your back'
Diplomacy in the art of tact, security in knowing that
Mingling energies coinsided, work together, not trying to hide it
The words themselves know what to do, its about piecing together
Chips and part of the puzzles that fall on through
But as the feathered quill darts and trusts in the innate gift
That doesn't collect more dust, the enigmatic inspiration of
Introspection that pours through this stanza thus, has
Powered many that drink the potions of collected lust
And by the darkness of the sky itself, the piper has laid down
His pipes to respect the health of the listeners that do connect

To retain a sense of peace within the air from which,
The dead, they call, simply to encourage, uplift and help us all
The last position recalled on the listening ear,

But not everyone will hear the sound of the pipes far and wide, transported back to the days of depression, poverty and when times were hard
From the days when one could hear the music from their own
Backyard
From when one could rest easy and leave the window open for the music to drift in, and answers could be found in the silence from when spirit whispered memories bathed in love
Silent messages that came in on the wings of a white dove

That brought in the symbolism of peace and a trusted source
Of a lesson in life, not knowing the consequences of what was wrought, the pain and the hurt from that lesson was taught
And in the silence, the answers were sought, in that one memory, life was indeed, caught, but if it weren't for us listeners
Then it would've been all for naught
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 11
About this poem:
just a story in itself, introspection
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