Last Viewed Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

As I drift into sleep my eyes become accustomed
to the shadowy landscape of my dreams, now
as I gaze into the distance shapes emerge on the boundary
and I wonder could that be you approaching hesitantly?

You are welcome in my dream for your words abide in my heart
and your face in my memory.
But are longing and imagining strong enough to ensure
that I enter your dream tonight?

Will our souls connect before my hopes are fulfilled
or must I always stand in your shadow waiting and
invisible to you, as you chase the dreams of another?

...........and my destiny awaits me alone

Tomorrrow is yesterday waiting to happen
today is poor and so is my life
used to have a family

thay live with the wife

Brown,yellow,and leafy green. Shaded,cool,and beauty serene. Nodded and swayed in the lazy breeze, Grew and obeyed gods natural decrees. Beneath twisted the pathway that led to you. Marked by twigs and bark with antique hue. Blades of grass came forth to tell the story,of a pathway now untrod filled with glory,and of moments in a by gone day. When I walked with you that way,Or sought to find you on the lawn of your little home one pritty dawn, or dreamed for hours and hours of the home that could be ours. But someday, I know dear one, that I shall see that you are coming down that pathway to me.

You never know when one pops into your life, a little angel who is only here in this world for such a short time, i know why they come, they come to show us love and teach us loss, they come to teach and then they go home, and when you look at their faces so pure and peaceful you can understand how special a little angel is, how precious a gift to see one.And then when the people who are left have cryed and let go and left, the few who can go and stand in the room will feel the peace and love of the angel and know that their soul is content, and if you close your eyes and just stand still sometimes you can imagine a soft breath as they are lifted high :-) and the shell left behind is just a shell, a sweet body that allowed the beautiful soul to be hugged and cuddled and give so much love.

Sometimes there are little angels.

I watch the seconds on the clock
Ticking slowly by
One minute gone the minutes go by
Now the hours

Slowly add ed to my clock
Tick tock
Time goes by
Slowly hours added
The hours counted and have gone
As I sit and stir
As I watch the time that as gone never to be retuned
Time move on

Seconds to mins ,mins to hour s 24 hours now gone
Hours into days ,days into weeks ,weeks become months months becume years
Where has my life gone

“Out of my window is a rapid, blending and a dilute blur of present and a bygone past. Inside my mind is a rapid shifting blur of present and future. Practical irony in motion."

There - mine self - it stands alone
Let it be - it sulks - let it Weep
Again - that force - some brewery of hate
Churns and Burns - where Nerves were cool
Then silence breaks - from Voice - a drone
As resentment lurks for Nausea to Creep
Wherein its place - the Wars of Fate
Making me to be - this thing - a Fool

O Look away - how dare I stare
Upon that face of mine own reflection
As if I were impressed by its aging look
comparing that image to a Self unknown
Vanity's dream compels me there
Unmeasured time from my life it took
Lifetimes seen from seeds I've sown

Rubbish it is - it is - a knot of mystery carefully tied
An enigma veiled neath the Yoke of strife
a Labyrinth of the dying and living
Bodies to shed like old Costumes Worn
Knowing each one had laughed and Cried
Bound to the Wheel of death and life
While herein this shell - this Soul doth Mourn

O Stop it - you - You ego who Sulks
As if this illusion you never knew
Stop your whining and shape up your stance
Be Free - with me - staying strong and bold
And if the tide-of-pride against Us bulks
Walk with me - our Course is true
We are the Moments of the Cosmic dance
We are the telling of the stories told

This is not these day and not these night
not these birds
yours sat on the knit of the moon
they sing a lullaby
or they fall silent in the dark.
Not this time and season
rain will not make icicles
and icicles will not flow downstream
on hot skin.
Not this place and not this house
I beat my head against the green wall
and I was thinking
it could have been better if you
did not coil the moon's wires
the birds have nowhere to sit.

Family is his heart,
and all that he will strive for.
Working day and night,
if that is what is called for.

Gentle strength,in his silence,
when concerns lurk within.
Search an action to be taken,
so that he may begin.

Collecting mushrooms sweet contentment,
curve of mountain against skies.
His pleasure in the outside,
sleeping stars where he lies.

Hunting game is excitement,
animated stories to be told.
His football seals alliance,
he knows his place,in the world.

Cooked meat in his care,
taking stock from his seat.
joyous feeling in the moment,
children playing at his feet.

Put away my basket and sewing thread

Whilst memories of how you use to be

Decidedly were better left unsaid

Each repair sewed lovingly yet still see

The scars that have changed how you once appeared

There's nothing more that I can do for you

I will don you for what you are, no more tears

There's nothing left for me to really do

Memories of colors that showed so bright

Faded replaced by a different hue

I could think of what once was or what might

Or just except you for what you've been thru

Sometimes life has a way of changing course

To move on you must let go of remorse