Most Viewed Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

Oh I hear voice from charming, wondrous far off,
Hear voice as if in silver morning dew.
Oh I hear voice, me road inviting beckons,
Spins my head, as on a carousel I whirl.

Oh charming, wondrous far off, I plead you not to hurt so,
I plead you not to hurt so, to hurt me not.
From pure source I head on to charming, wondrous far off,
To charming, wondrous far off I’m starting on my road.

Oh I hear voice from charming, wondrous far off
Calling me, go, see the marvels of the world,
Hear voice, and voice is asking me in stern tone –
What today I have fulfilled for morrow’s cause.

Oh charming, wondrous far off, I plead you not to hurt so,
I plead you not to hurt so, to hurt me not.
From pure source I head on to charming, wondrous far off,
To charming, wondrous far off I’m starting on my road.

Oh I promise I will get more pure and kinder
And shall gladly help my friend out of the hot.
Oh I hear voice, am rushing to it faster
On the road that bears no step I head along.

Oh charming, wondrous far off, I plead you not to hurt so,
I plead you not to hurt so, to hurt me not.
From pure source I head on to charming, wondrous far off,
To charming, wondrous far off I’m starting on my road.

Oh charming, wondrous far off, I plead you not to hurt so,
I plead you not to hurt so, to hurt me not.
From pure source I head on to charming, wondrous far off,
To charming wondrous far off I’m starting on my road.

Ranching life is cattle-
Riding fence and shakin' hay,
Spending hours in a saddle
Working weary for my pay.

It's spinning fancy rope tricks
Telling yarns the cowboy way
Tying knots and twisting wire
Watching gangly calves at play.

It's friendship between old bunkmates-
It's the fellowship of men
And the sharing of a moment
At the passing of a friend.

It's the clap of heavy thunder
When the last one's in the pen
And a weary pony's playful romp..
When the long day hits its end.

It's a flat loop when you need it
It's a dally without thumbs
It's the sizzle of an iron
When they've rounded up the bums.

It's the sparkling stars of heaven
When the cool of evening comes
And the calming gift of music
When a campfire guitar strums.

It's the burst of blooming clover
And the smell of new mown hay,
And the soothing sounds the crickets make
When all light's gone from day.

It's the greening days of drizzle
That transform the land each May,
And the twinkling eyes of children...
Watching barn cats' kittens play.

It's the crisp snap your boots make..
On fresh new arctic snow,
And the heavenly glow of northern lights
Setting winter skies aglow.

But mostly it's the simple little truths
That all ranch families know....
Respect the land.. the earth and man...
And the creatures God's bestowed.

The days of my life were settled and set in stone for many years,
one day the stone walls crumbled and fell.

Now the world and my days are ever changing,
instead of always being the same,
now I float on air,
then crash and burn,
I cry in the rain and laugh with the wind,
always changing and always offering hope.

Always knowing tomorrow will never be the same,
the winds of my soul will always reach out for something it knows is there, it would be nice to rest and feel the winds settle soon.

Do you remember yesterday's gold
A treasure of memories suddenly unfold
Where sunset was slow on an old dusty road

When anxious summertime arrived with it's glow
A car would travel through the neighborhood
And on a loud speaker you could hear
What was playing at the drive in show

And sometimes there was a little kid
Walking down that country road
With the best dog he ever had by his side
And believing God's arms were always opened wide

Ready to hold ready to hold
For a staff he had only a fishing pole
Never would he forget yesterday's gold

You made outdoors Thy temple, Lord, to fit our simple prayer
So Christmas time may touch the hearts of all men everywhere
With thine own brand of mercy, human kindness and the best
Of good old freedom feelings that we hold here in the West.

Please don't let any hearts feel hopeless, Lord, no matter who they are
Please help them look up for comforts to the promise of the star
I ask no special favors, Lord,except to hope you'll bless
The friends, kith and kin, whom we hold dear, with Christmas happiness.

On the stormy rocks the light house stands
Standing tall defiant , it stands on the dangerous rocks it stands
Its beaming white light proudly beaming out over the darkend gale Force seas
Its beaming red light signals to every ship to keep away or danger will be

By day and by night the lighthouse stands magesticly in the sun light the bitter cold of the seas
The waves crashing at its base nestled on the rock , that danger lies beaneath
The waves are crashing and lapping with such force like white horses dancing on the seas trying with its lapping waves to cover up the Lighthouse in its gliding swell trying to move it with force

The jaggerd rocks signals the danger that lies beaneth its base
At its base waiting to snare a boat that comes within its shallow Waters
Determand to destroy any ship or floating vessal off course now the light shines out on the open seas protecting warning to ships who come so near protecting those on the sea

Its beaming light its fog horns warns passing ships to danger in The foggy seas of its presence on the open seas and to the dangers of The open seas

smile, no shade to share
good talker, good listener
found porch, vacated

Your fingers wrap up in my hair
Your legs wrap my hips
Your eyes are closed
Your mouth is open
You breath out deeply
As you let me in

Was it the wine?
Was it cherry cordials-
Sweet and smooth and sticky?
Was it the stimulation
Of conversation, over dinner
Or the absolute natural scent
Which only flowers do impart?

No.. They are but trappings
A pedestal onto which we foist
Our predetermined passion, not only
For the pleasure of the climb, but
For all that further we may fall,

And how we do fall, fall, fall...

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
Back and forth goes the clock.
Eyes searching for a face.
Memorized numbers in their place.
Round and round goes the hands.
No beginning no end.
Once was calculated by just mere sand.
Passing through an hour glass.
Times so precious not to be lost.
Passing through ones life,
like a breeze flowing through air.
Can't grasp it, hold onto it, it's not there.
By the time I say it is one thirty-five.
It is gone, on it's way towards another day.

We walked the trail as we had many days.
Litter strewn and an old pop bottle for scenery.
You lead the way. I follow. All so excited.
Soon we will reach our destination. I could find it on my own.
But you want let me. I could go with my eyes closed.
I can hardly contain my anticipation.
We are nearing our destination.
I can see it in the distance.
We have reached the clearing.
Not much longer and we will be there.
I awaken from my thoughts.
Where once were almost a hundred homes.
All are now long gone.
Just like the store my grandpa use to walk me too.
Now it is replaced with other structures. As if the homes
and time never existed. Removed.
But not from my thoughts my mind.
A little girl with her grandpa.
A time that was so kind.