Most Viewed Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

They've been to get their Christmas tree, they hadn't far to go
They live in that high country where young timber starts to grow
The day is cold, the snow is new, there aren't so many tracks
Dad has got the Christmas tree, the boy gets to hold the ax.

You notice by the chimney that the fireplace is wide
They have their house built strong and low, it's plenty warm inside
They've got a good set of corrals besides a stable too;
They are fixed up pretty handy for a place to winter through

And when they put the candles on, it's easy to believe
How that tree will look by firelight this comin' Christmas Eve
There won't be any carols sung, no organ will be to play
But they'll have a happy Christmas in the hills so far away

I'll bet Dad's thinking, back to when he was a kid
How folks would spend their Christmas and things he got and did
Of course the boy, he looks ahead, he thinks not of the past
But soon he'll have his Christmas memories that'll keep until the last.

I’m torn between the two of you,
Seem to have lost my mind.
I’ve hurt your heart by rejecting you
And by saying “yes” to you - the other.
Which seems to be of no avail:
I can’t help loving both you and the other.

I had to make the toughest choice
Said “no” to you to benefit you - the other.
Can’t ever tell why I acted this way,
Just had to choose between you and the other.
Which seems to be of no avail:
I can’t help loving both you and the other.

Yes, I am something of a scoundrel
Though I have been forced
To be one
Through nature
And circumstance.

Through early grinding poverty
And a childhood
That would rip out your heart.

I am Virgo -
My ruler Mercury
Number 14 my birth date
(That's 5 in Numerology)

I am a gambler
Because of my nature
And of necessity

I am a gambler
For money.

I am a gambler
For love.

Money comes and goes
In a flash
And goes
And comes again

Women
They've been many.
(They seem to come and go also).

This is Mercury operating again
(Through conjunction with Venus I suspect).

I have only loved twice
The first time wrung
The last drop of blood out of my heart
When we broke up.

The second time much later
(More like domesticity)
Genuine affection nonetheless
For eight years of contentment
Which ended for reasons
Which I will not describe here.

I've never cheated
In these relationships

Now I am much older
Women still fascinate me.

Will I ever find "the one"?
Maybe it's third time lucky?
Who knows?

I have my faults
We all have our faults.

I make no apology
For what I am.
My poetry anthology

Describes my life
For what it is*



© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

Childhood

Playing in a pile of rustic colored leaves

Breezes blowing them up high in the air

Do you want to come play with me?

Building sand castles upon the ocean’s sandy shore

Watching waves wash them all away

Wading in water up to ones knees

Stop water splashing at me please!

Swimming out to a resting floating raft

Later taking a ride, rowing in a tiny boat

Fishing from the ocean shores

Listening to sounds of the mighty ocean’s roars

Hiking down a trail in the deep quiet woods

There goes a scared-up running deer

See the white flash of her high up raised white under tail

Listen to nature’s animal warnings, telling
that we are there

Barking and chatting of squirrels, the squawking of two blue jays back and forth

Listen can’t you hear the caw, caw of that black feathered sentry, that lonely crow

He‘s letting all the world to know that we are here

The explosion of a rising grouse from it’s hide-away, hidden deep within the forest’s brush

A duck flapping wings, on a rise from it’s placid pond

A chipmunk chattering upon an old forgotten stone wall in the woods

A human is here, all woodland creatures watch out,beware!

It’s time to go and seesaw in the park

Play on the children’s swings until it’s dark

Oh, Now I have to go home, eat, do my homework and go to bed

Tomorrow I will go to school, can’t wait

Oh! To be a child again to go out in the school yard to play!

(Wanting to be a child again!)
Poet
JimEee

Wading my way through
dust and wire
fields of desire..
streams of broken hearts and so many endless dreams
Nothing is ever, the way that it first seems..
Wading thorugh muck and mire..
And somehow never quite finding
What it is that I think that I desire.
An empty field of barren dreams.
And now there's only ice, where there once was fire..
Wondering if it's all a joke on me..
Because I can't see.. where it is that
I fit into in your life.
Or even if it's meant to be
Like why is it so hard. to figure out,
Where I'm supposed to be..
And where am I supposed to go..
Does anyone really know..
What it's all about
If you can then give me a shout
Because right now I'm so lost..
And I'm pretty much tempted to just say to hell with it..
And just give up on everything..
I couldnt bring you round to my way of thinking
I couldnt be the doormat that you so wanted me to be.
All you wanted was to scream and shout
Sorry that's not what I'm about ..
Already this is looking too much like a real bad marriage from Hell,
And I'm so ready to just bow out..
So what have you got to say.
I never quite envisioned us this way..
But if this is what you're all about
Repeating the same mistakes over and over again..
Then I'll be on the next train right out of your life..
Because I've been here and done this all before..
And you know this time I wanted something more..
But if this is going to be deja vu..
Then here's me sticking it to you...
Because I don't need this..
And I won't live this life again..
And nobody wins..
In this game of Dejavu

We sit upon a log
to allow our souls
to catch up with us

We have been traveling
a long time.

Behind us
are forests of books
with pages green as leaves.
A blood sun stares
over the horizon.

Our souls are slow.
They walk miles behind
our long shadows.

They do not dance.
They need all their strength
merely to follow us.

Sometimes we run too fast
or trip climbing
the rotten rungs
in life's ladder.

Our souls know
it leads nowhere.

They are not afraid
of losing us.


~SAS~

He's know for wearing yellow
He's a happy positive fellow
His friends call him Lance
He likes to wear biker pants
When he rode in the Tour De France he averaged over 24 miles per hour
That takes a lot of power
This was up and down hills
That gave his fans quite a thrill
Those seven medals that he had won with one sack
He had to give those back
He was doping don't you know
At least he used to date Sheryl Crow

Otis on the banjo....crawdads in the boil
moonshine's on the drip....flowin through the coil.

Washboards bein played while the jug is givin hoots
verandah boards soundin from the tappin of the boots
everyone's a dancin in their dresses and overalls
crawdads turnin red, and the music fills the air.

Otis on the banjo....crawdads in the boil
moonshine's on the drip....flowin through the coil.

Snakes are in the swamp an gators on the shore
spoons they join in, two step shines the floor
juice harp bein played by Nathan in the back
bass is holding rythm....as the buckets now in play.

Otis on the banjo....crawdads in the boil
moonshine's on the drip....flowin through the coil.

Moss hangs in the trees all around this water town
catfish in the pan, blackin as it cooks
sticks are being played while the notches give the sound
shoes kick up the dust, as two steps on the ground.

Otis on the banjo....crawdads in the boil
moonshine's on the drip....flowin through the coil~


~Bentlee~

The day has cast shadows that hold no image
Out my window I can see them coming
Across the bottom land they walk
Speaking to me in a language I have heard in my mind sense before my time
I tell mother that they are here
She smiles and says
Supper is ready.

*Sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells"*

Dashing through the streets, on a panicked runaway
If I can't get this colt to stop, there'll be a price to pay
I've pressured and released, but he won't give to the bit,
I wish that I was anywhere, instead of where I sit.

Jinglin' bells, flashing lights, reindeer on the roof
This colt gets higher off the ground, each time he lifts a hoof
If I could just get to the ground, the ground is where I'll stay;
And never ride no green-broke colt to town on Christmas Day.

Now we were doing fine, a joggin' down the lane
I used equine psychology and got inside his brain
But he could not stay hooked, when Old Saint Nick strolled by,
His beard ain't white at all, compared to this pony's eye.

Jinglin' bells, Santa Claus, Snowmen in the yard,
Training colts around Christmastime's a job that's kind of hard,
Carolers sing so loud and some jerk in a sleigh,
I wish I never rode this colt to town on Christmas Day.

A day or two ago, down on the old round pen
We'd progressed nicely throughout the book on up to Chapter Ten
I thought I had him broke, guess I had a ways to go,
'Cause I don't think John Lyons himself could get this horse to WHOA!

Jinglin' bells, dancing elves, and a merry HO! HO! HO!
This colt's wound up like a spring, I know he's gonna blow!
Angel hair and mistletoe and Rudolph's big red nose,
The end this ride is coming to, sure ain't the one I chose.

Oh Lord! I'm still aboard, as he dashes in the barn
That doorway's just a little snug, I think I've broke my arm,
Each time I try to rise, my ankle gives away,
I guess if I had to tell the truth, this just ain't been my day. OOOOOH!

Jinglin' bells, MRIs, ankle in a cast
At first I was mad at that colt, but now my rage has passed,
I'll limp for life, just use one arm, and I guess I'll lose this eye,
But I should be back to riding colts by the Fourth Day of July.