Most Commented Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

Play it just that way son
Said the old man with a smile
'Cause when you play it sad and sweet
It feels alright for awhile

And the stained glass of his eyes
Was like a worn out movie screen
With screenplays of lost promises
False hearts, and broken dreams

(ch)
He said; I've searched the world for answers
But I haven't found them yet
It's never quite the way it seems
It's how the light reflects

In the angry city evenings
One can vaguely hear the cries
Of the children born in hunger
And the anger borne in lies

And the night holds desperate promise
But it wants to shred your soul
If you stare into those lights too long
You know you'll lose control

(ch)
You try to put the past behind you
But you never quite forget
It's not the game that draws the crowd
It's how the light reflects

So I sit here on the beach
An old guitar in weathered hands
And think about the days I used to
Wander through this land

And the ripples on the sea
Reflects the light of a billion stars
While the memories that I run from
Start to gather around my heart

(ch)
Oh, I thought I'd lost so much there
As I paid my last respects
But it's not the pain that wounds the heart
It's how the light reflects

Hard times have come upon us
money seems to go nowhere
the bills are overwhelming
can’t even afford to cut my hair…

When will it all settle down?
There’s just no end in sight
crime is at an all time high
doors and windows are locked up tight...

We’re a prisoner to our lifestyles
trendy fashion and society rule our lives
our children are all running amuck
men aren’t paying attention to their wives…

Family unity has fallen to the wayside
working overtime just to afford the gas
days off to spend with the family
are now just a memory in the past…

Spiritual beliefs tossed aside for earthly pleasures
laws forbid prayer in the work place and in school
faith in God is no longer spoken
it’s been replaced by the teachings of fools…

Written By: LynnC1955
© July 26, 2008

After discussing for hours which is the nicest indeed
The Family watches as dad finally cuts down the tree
Walnuts and nutcrackers, shells on the floor
Babies are crying, small cherubs that we all adore
Stockings hung full and candles' light dancing
Snow covered roofs and dropping snowflakes prancing
Ice on the pond recently cleaned and glistening
Children in the closet shaking gifts and listening
Cold Northern wind and children with red cheeks
Thoughts of cookies and cakes make them complete
Carolers and school concerts extolling their joy
Hand crafted tree decorations and simple homemade toys
Muted red and green wrapping paper, brown cord and bow.
Preachers and ministers with boxes of presents in tow.
Smells of Christmas like pine trees and pie shells
Cold winter Sleigh rides and horses with bells,
Children running after in new ploughed tracks
Small wooden houses and neatly kept weathered shacks
Smells of hot chocolate,candle wax, and fruitcake
Smells from the kitchen of fresh dough and caked dates
Real fur coats,long worn in splendor with ease
People scurring about on old fashioned wood skis
Hi boots and oversize rubber boots with socks 3 thick
Men dressing up in new sewn costumes of St. Nick
Pine cones and angels both snowangels and on trees
Wind whipped scarves and frozen snow on your knees
Icicles and wrapped bicycles and family presents of fun
Chimney smoke from fires when chopping wood's done
Wreaths of cedar scented boughs and real mistletoe
Taken down upon the approach of... old uncle Joe.
Storytimes with quiet rhymes and children aglow
Oh what a glorious and fun time we've all known
Reflecting the events of Christmas time before
They are all in the past and shall be no more.

The clock on the wall is ticking.
And I am not where I am suppose to be.
But I feel as if I am where I should be.
I know others worry about me.
For that I am truly sorry.
I have been there for many.
Now I need to be here for me.
They see a change they do not understand.
I have been so predictable for years.
With the occasional turning of the corner.
But now they fear, for I am no longer
I am going back to who I once was.
When I was care free.
I have done what has been set out for me.
It feels good to wear the skin that is mine.
I have missed the days of not caring.
So don't worry all will be well.

How I do wish to God
That I was two Dogs
Then we'd play together all day,
We'd run through the bog
A' chasing Green frogs
And rise the odd pheasant or hare.

We'd lie down together
To doze in the heather
To the hum of the bumblbees
We'd swim in the lake
Then have a good shake
And nibble away at our fleas.

The birds in the air
They'd not give a care
For the larks of two Dogs in a bog,
The fish in the streams
Could go on with their dreams
While myself and my mate had a snog.

And as the sun sets
With our panting breath
We'd run down the old boreen
Then we'd scratch and we'd paw
At the old master's door
And be fed 'til our bellies were pleased.

While we'd lie by the fire
We'd be truly admired
As our coats would shimmer and shine,
And on top of a dresser
Among some old treasures
An old cat might stretch out and whine.

To the tick and the tock
Of a Grandfathers clock
We'd be snoozing by half past ten
And early next morning
Without anyone scorning
We could do it all over again.

The past is gone forever,
never to be revisited,
only remembered

Good and bad, joys
and sorrows.
All of these are there,
but the mind has softened
and altered the reality.

Joys are not remembered
with the clear pure and sharp
focus of the past,
but are re-coloured and clouded
by life’s changing pattern.

Sorrow’s sharp edges
blunted by the mind protecting itself
from memories too painful
to remember.

It is said that we should not dwell
on the past.
perhaps so,
but the future is unknown, the past
a security blanket to cling to
when all else seems
too difficult to bear.

The familiar is always more comfortable
than the staring blank page
of the future.

towered sentries a hundred years old stood in silence as the troughed wheel continued it's stationary journey allowing only the stream to pass.... four seasons at a time.... occasional romance blossomed.... a squeak an grind from time to time from within as the wooden gears an steel axles pursued the wheel.... even the trout haven'd the pools the wheel kept alive . . . . as this time was grist to the mill ~

I look at the night time sky,
my eyes a mystic hue.
I see a glimmering star,
dancing around in the cosmic veil,
shimmering and moving around a moons glade.

I look back in time, two hundred years or three,
when that star made it’s journey to me.
It’s mystical hue reaching my eye,
Though space and time, and here we rhyme.

Did hunters and gatherers live in this time?,
Or sailors find lands by following its chime ?.
In the blink of an eye, I’m frozen in time,
by following the rhyme of starlights demise.

Were wars fought or slaves bought from faraway tides?
Did Napoleon pray to the starlights prize ?
while slaves lives were shipped on the tides,
And mothers wails, while the sails fade.

This star of mine, seen many pines,
Deaths and regrets, wrecks and neglect.
This star of mine frozen in time,
in the gleam of my eye and the hue of my mind,
She glimmers and shines,
just frozen in time.

Its a dull and overcast day
I walk along the sandy beach
gazing into the distance and out to sea
There i see pictures all lined up neatly over the sea

over the sea
In lines hovering over the sea
Is it my life i see before me
my ies light up as i remember the the good times and the bad

lots and lots of pictures i see my life in front of me and my past fades away but not forgoton people i see in my pictureS long since gone but not forgoton
My childhood, my middle age there in pictures in front of me

What awaits my future what lies a head of me my rows of pictures my life in front of me

imagine a time when a stones throw away stood love gained an sometimes love lost, the simple town life where a connection to the outside was courier de bois pony express the steel rail steamer trumpeted sound smoke signals stage coach. . . . how far we've come click of the mouse to anywhere thats now a stones throw away life love family work economics info how that towns grown for within that click of the mouse can be love gained or love lost.