Here is a list of Nostalgia Poems ordered by Most Liked, posted by members. 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.
Through the Window
im looking through a window
made of silk and coloured stone
my memory is hazy
am i actually alone?
i cannot turn my head
my gaze is fixed outside
lost in strange wonders
of a plastic countryside
i can hear a bluebird trilling
its sweet vicous brutal song
theres a spider spining wispers
telling me i must be strong
theres a house thats made of faces
and another made of hands
a path that leads between them
shifting multicoloured sands
theres a dragon on a hillside
and a maple tree in bloom
and their both standing steady
somehow honest in the gloom
with shadows playing freely
on the ground and in the air
and even in their darkness
they sing a symphony so fair
its all distraction really
all this dreaming memory
it may hold my attention
with its broken old story
yet soon the window closes
the silk it rips and falls
the stone it shifts and melts
and its empty in these halls
made of silk and coloured stone
my memory is hazy
am i actually alone?
i cannot turn my head
my gaze is fixed outside
lost in strange wonders
of a plastic countryside
i can hear a bluebird trilling
its sweet vicous brutal song
theres a spider spining wispers
telling me i must be strong
theres a house thats made of faces
and another made of hands
a path that leads between them
shifting multicoloured sands
theres a dragon on a hillside
and a maple tree in bloom
and their both standing steady
somehow honest in the gloom
with shadows playing freely
on the ground and in the air
and even in their darkness
they sing a symphony so fair
its all distraction really
all this dreaming memory
it may hold my attention
with its broken old story
yet soon the window closes
the silk it rips and falls
the stone it shifts and melts
and its empty in these halls
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
Post Comment
A Little Girl's Dreams
Dreams keep running through my mind
Reflecting memories of long ago,
Made in a land of fairy tales,
A place my heart longs for so.
Cut off from the rest of the world
With streams, and meadows to roam.
Viewed from a little girl's eyes,
A place that would always be home.
A place where berries grew wild,
Where rabbits and squirrels were seen,
Where a raccoon could be a friend,
And deer played down by the stream.
A world where imagination made all come true
And a little girl could be a queen,
Where daydreams were spun like cobwebs,
But a world where everything wasn't what it seemed.
For every little girl has to grow up,
And daydreams shatter in your hands.
You find the home that you thought was your own
Is nothing but a simple piece of land.
The flowers don't seem to bloom so bright
And fairy tales no longer come true.
For it is seen now through grown up eyes,
It's no longer the world that you knew.
But still ... somewhere ... in the back of my mind
That place will always remain,
From all those memories of long ago
To beckon me back, time and again.
Reflecting memories of long ago,
Made in a land of fairy tales,
A place my heart longs for so.
Cut off from the rest of the world
With streams, and meadows to roam.
Viewed from a little girl's eyes,
A place that would always be home.
A place where berries grew wild,
Where rabbits and squirrels were seen,
Where a raccoon could be a friend,
And deer played down by the stream.
A world where imagination made all come true
And a little girl could be a queen,
Where daydreams were spun like cobwebs,
But a world where everything wasn't what it seemed.
For every little girl has to grow up,
And daydreams shatter in your hands.
You find the home that you thought was your own
Is nothing but a simple piece of land.
The flowers don't seem to bloom so bright
And fairy tales no longer come true.
For it is seen now through grown up eyes,
It's no longer the world that you knew.
But still ... somewhere ... in the back of my mind
That place will always remain,
From all those memories of long ago
To beckon me back, time and again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
About this poem:
I used to tell people that I grew up so far out in the sticks that the sticks got lonely. A one thousand acre farm, on a huge lake, as a child it was magical. But as a child you do not understand that your father is only foreman on the farm. That the farm won't always be there for you.
Nevermore
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
it hovers o'er the river
I swam in days of yore,
when enclosed me only sunshine
and all the world was mine,
'fore penury got its grip on me
in the dark'ning veil of time
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
it plays in attic treasure chests
my mind loved to explore,
when diamond chips and pirate ships
abounded on the main,
'fore my childhood dreams cried mutiny
now no mystery remains
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
it swings on oak tree pendulums
I tied before the war
'tween a young boy's dreams of flying
and an old man's hopes of dying,
and with time's speed multiplying
'til the clock tic tocs no more
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
so I'll ramble on
and sing my song
and regard not nevermore
of a song I knew before,
it hovers o'er the river
I swam in days of yore,
when enclosed me only sunshine
and all the world was mine,
'fore penury got its grip on me
in the dark'ning veil of time
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
it plays in attic treasure chests
my mind loved to explore,
when diamond chips and pirate ships
abounded on the main,
'fore my childhood dreams cried mutiny
now no mystery remains
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
it swings on oak tree pendulums
I tied before the war
'tween a young boy's dreams of flying
and an old man's hopes of dying,
and with time's speed multiplying
'til the clock tic tocs no more
I hear the distant echo
of a song I knew before,
so I'll ramble on
and sing my song
and regard not nevermore
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
About this poem:
Can't wait to have time to write more!The Little Boy I Knew
What happened to that little boy I knew?
Someone please tell me where he went to!
For now a father stands in his place
With happiness written all over his face.
Where is he, that little boy I love?
That happy cherub sent from above.
He's grown so tall yet still I see
That little boy who means so much to me.
How have all those years gone by?
Someone please tell me why oh why,
Everything changes, everyone too,
What happened to that little boy I knew?
Where can he be, that gullible little tyke?
With a head of curls and a smile of delight,
He looks no more for sky hooks of blue,
But the curls are still there, and the smile too.
But what did he say last night on the phone?
A child was born, a son of his own!
Is this possible? Oh how can it be?
For he's still my little brother, you see.
The years have gone by, oh, much too fast
I've heard it said anything good can't last
But that can't be right, it must be wrong.
Oh, where have all those years gone?
I smile, as back through the years I go
Remembering the little boy that I loved so,
But now there's another cherub sent from above,
Another little boy to cherish and love.
Happiness is his in the gift of life.
He has a son and he has a wife,
He has a baby to love and hold,
A gift more precious than silver or gold.
But wait a minute! For now I see
That little boy who means so much to me,
He just grew up with the changing times,
Still he'll always be that little brother of mine.
He's still there, my brother who means so much to me
Standing tall and proud for all the world to see.
With a child in his arms, and a wife by his side,
He fills my heart with love and pride!
Someone please tell me where he went to!
For now a father stands in his place
With happiness written all over his face.
Where is he, that little boy I love?
That happy cherub sent from above.
He's grown so tall yet still I see
That little boy who means so much to me.
How have all those years gone by?
Someone please tell me why oh why,
Everything changes, everyone too,
What happened to that little boy I knew?
Where can he be, that gullible little tyke?
With a head of curls and a smile of delight,
He looks no more for sky hooks of blue,
But the curls are still there, and the smile too.
But what did he say last night on the phone?
A child was born, a son of his own!
Is this possible? Oh how can it be?
For he's still my little brother, you see.
The years have gone by, oh, much too fast
I've heard it said anything good can't last
But that can't be right, it must be wrong.
Oh, where have all those years gone?
I smile, as back through the years I go
Remembering the little boy that I loved so,
But now there's another cherub sent from above,
Another little boy to cherish and love.
Happiness is his in the gift of life.
He has a son and he has a wife,
He has a baby to love and hold,
A gift more precious than silver or gold.
But wait a minute! For now I see
That little boy who means so much to me,
He just grew up with the changing times,
Still he'll always be that little brother of mine.
He's still there, my brother who means so much to me
Standing tall and proud for all the world to see.
With a child in his arms, and a wife by his side,
He fills my heart with love and pride!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
About this poem:
My youngest brother and I were always very close and I remember writing this for him when his son was born. OH MY! I went to his house for Christmas this year and got to meet his new grandson. What happened to that little boy I knew??? He's now a Grandpa. Where does time go?
The Way Of The Gun (Part 1)
This is the story of how a humble invention terrorised the world.
The Gun, be it friend or foe is an essential part of the modern
World In it's infancy it was used as a means of protection
And hunting for food, but even useful things can develop
Sinister uses in the wrong hands.
In the 17th century hand guns were used to prove a man's honour
When used for duelling purposes, two men would meet at a secret
Rendevous along with their seconds and a referee to carry out a
Fight to the death with these pistols, firing only one shot, they Would stand back to back, walk ten paces forward,turn and then fire At each other the loser would be lying dead on the ground or badly Hurt in some cases, prior to this it was done with swords, later Times duelling became banned.
By this time the military were using guns to fight wars, both
Hand guns and rifles were used to fight the enemy, guns were also Used to rob horse drawn coaches by the likes of Highwaymen, and Bushrangers, by the 18th Century in America the Wild West was using Six guns, hand guns that would fire six bullets, the Sherrif or
Marshall's would create law and order in the towns, and the gun
Was the only law men understood to settle disputes, in a bar a Gunfight would erupt by a drunken cowboy, or at a card game
Someone would be caught cheating, the result was a gunfight
With a derringer a very small single or two shot pistol
Concealed by the user, it all came down to the famous shoot out
On the street, were the Law and lawbreaker would shoot it out,
People would take cover during this event for their own safety.
The Gun, be it friend or foe is an essential part of the modern
World In it's infancy it was used as a means of protection
And hunting for food, but even useful things can develop
Sinister uses in the wrong hands.
In the 17th century hand guns were used to prove a man's honour
When used for duelling purposes, two men would meet at a secret
Rendevous along with their seconds and a referee to carry out a
Fight to the death with these pistols, firing only one shot, they Would stand back to back, walk ten paces forward,turn and then fire At each other the loser would be lying dead on the ground or badly Hurt in some cases, prior to this it was done with swords, later Times duelling became banned.
By this time the military were using guns to fight wars, both
Hand guns and rifles were used to fight the enemy, guns were also Used to rob horse drawn coaches by the likes of Highwaymen, and Bushrangers, by the 18th Century in America the Wild West was using Six guns, hand guns that would fire six bullets, the Sherrif or
Marshall's would create law and order in the towns, and the gun
Was the only law men understood to settle disputes, in a bar a Gunfight would erupt by a drunken cowboy, or at a card game
Someone would be caught cheating, the result was a gunfight
With a derringer a very small single or two shot pistol
Concealed by the user, it all came down to the famous shoot out
On the street, were the Law and lawbreaker would shoot it out,
People would take cover during this event for their own safety.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
This a controversial piece about the gun from it's humble beginning to it's ugly presence in modern times, written in December 2012 and now posted in January 2013, don't fall victim to....."The Way Of The Gun"The Way Of The Gun (Part 2)
History would move on to the 19th Century were in World War 1
Wars were being fought it involved many countries and the gun
Killed a lot of soldiers from both sides. meanwhile in America,
It was in the period of the Roaring 20's, were gangland violence Broke out between rival factions, the Thompson machine gun was Brought into fashion, it had a magazine load bullet cartridge
Fired many bullets in a round, it was a portable version of the Gatling gun used during the wars, but could be aimed very easily, Many wars followed bringing more and powerful guns into operation.
By the 1950s, guns were used for armed robbery and killing of Innocent people by insane people, in the Arab wars guns were worn by Even children and they were often involved in killing people by
Their leaders, guns had come of age as we had the Gulf War and many More into the future, time is now the future and there is all sorts Of bad uses for the gun, no longer humble, but with it's own
Voice of death, the gun is now used by any gun crazed killer who Chooses to buy one, a gun can be bought lik a grocery item on a Supermarket shelf, as gun control is practically non existant.
The law enforcement organisations cannot stem the violent killings Around them, Governments do very little to kerb the use of violence In society, and it is now time to stop this terrible crime once and For all. This all be too little to late as this may eventually lead To the extinction of man on the planet unless there is something
Done by the powers that be to stop it, the gun is now an outlaw
In modern society, and it proved one thing, thay anything good can
Be used for total evil, the gun has come from a useful tool to a
Weapon of deadly destruction, man created it now man must live
With this creation for the rest of his life on Earth.
Wars were being fought it involved many countries and the gun
Killed a lot of soldiers from both sides. meanwhile in America,
It was in the period of the Roaring 20's, were gangland violence Broke out between rival factions, the Thompson machine gun was Brought into fashion, it had a magazine load bullet cartridge
Fired many bullets in a round, it was a portable version of the Gatling gun used during the wars, but could be aimed very easily, Many wars followed bringing more and powerful guns into operation.
By the 1950s, guns were used for armed robbery and killing of Innocent people by insane people, in the Arab wars guns were worn by Even children and they were often involved in killing people by
Their leaders, guns had come of age as we had the Gulf War and many More into the future, time is now the future and there is all sorts Of bad uses for the gun, no longer humble, but with it's own
Voice of death, the gun is now used by any gun crazed killer who Chooses to buy one, a gun can be bought lik a grocery item on a Supermarket shelf, as gun control is practically non existant.
The law enforcement organisations cannot stem the violent killings Around them, Governments do very little to kerb the use of violence In society, and it is now time to stop this terrible crime once and For all. This all be too little to late as this may eventually lead To the extinction of man on the planet unless there is something
Done by the powers that be to stop it, the gun is now an outlaw
In modern society, and it proved one thing, thay anything good can
Be used for total evil, the gun has come from a useful tool to a
Weapon of deadly destruction, man created it now man must live
With this creation for the rest of his life on Earth.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
This is Part 2 of this poem as it was too long to post in one posting.so here is the conntinuing part to "The Way Of The Gun" (2012)
Under The Weeping Willow
I found a place where peace abides
Where love and dreams live on
Leaning against the age worn trunk
Where I can sing my song
I found a place only God could make
Where loneliness and hurt departs
A place that holds only serenity
Where joy rings in my heart
Sitting under the weeping willow
Watching branches sway in the wind
A place where no one can see me
And happiness can begin
Underneath my weeping willow
I can let go of all my fears
For there is no hurt in God's arms
And the willow can cry all my tears
I found a place of happiness
Where I can dream my own dreams
I can leave the sorrows of the world behind
And forget everything that I have seen
But sooner of later I have to emerge
And face head on the world again
But for a few moments I forgot the hurt
Leaning against the body of my dear old friend.
Where love and dreams live on
Leaning against the age worn trunk
Where I can sing my song
I found a place only God could make
Where loneliness and hurt departs
A place that holds only serenity
Where joy rings in my heart
Sitting under the weeping willow
Watching branches sway in the wind
A place where no one can see me
And happiness can begin
Underneath my weeping willow
I can let go of all my fears
For there is no hurt in God's arms
And the willow can cry all my tears
I found a place of happiness
Where I can dream my own dreams
I can leave the sorrows of the world behind
And forget everything that I have seen
But sooner of later I have to emerge
And face head on the world again
But for a few moments I forgot the hurt
Leaning against the body of my dear old friend.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
There was a time in my childhood when I was bullied and tormented by the other children, all due to numerous surgery on my eyes. I loved the weeping willow and found a haven under it. I still have a soft spot for them. I am lucky enough to live just a few blocks from the world famous Rideau Canal which is almost 125.5 miles long, and has paths along it. BamBam and I frequently walk along it and stop to sit under a willow and watch the world go by. In the summer the willows are just magnificent. In the winter it becomes the largest skating rink in the world, at almost 5 miles from one end to the other.
...'OL ROMY'...
Now 'Romy' was a friend of mine
He stood 'round 14:3
He had a damn good temperament
Well...pretty much like me
Was kind and honest ..did his job
He never questioned orders
we'd chased a lot of cattle tho'
And crossed a lot of borders
There's only once that springs to mind
When he was only three
T'was my fault things got hectic
And 'Ol Romy' would agree
But that's a few years bygone hence
When I was young and green
So pull a stump and settle down
And visualize the scene
I rolled my swag and packed my gear
And walked towards my horse
Happy in my chosen work
A drovers life of course
I placed the sweat cloth on his back
And eased the saddle up
I tightened up the cinches
Then started to mount up
I swung loosely to the saddle
And gathered up the reins
Then 'Romy' just exploded
Like a ruptured water mains
His shoulders lifted rigid
He caught me by surprise
I saw myself in orbit
Right before my very eyes
The gap got real wider
T'ween the saddle and my rear
And I knew that leaving leather
Was very very near
But in determination
With all the strength to find
I hung on for my 'crown jewels'
Were foremost on my mind
He bucked and rose and grunted
I knew something was amiss
For never had 'Ol Romy'
Ever acted up like this
It seemed like it was ages
But was seconds I am sure
Then I got off and left him
I was feeling rather sore
He'd sent the camp gear flying
He had kicked a lot of sand
I looked and there stood 'cookie'
With a shovel in his hand
The look he gave was fit to kill
As I sit here thinking that
If I had spoke a single word
He would have broke my back
But I had turned to 'Romy'
Something was not right
I had to find a reason
For his sudden airborne fright
So I took my gear down off him
To check it thoroughly
To find a damn Nagoora Burr
Was ne'er the death of me
From that day on I never missed
A time to check my 'tack'
I always check my saddle cloth
And brush my horses back
T'was only once in his whole life
'Oh boy' he let me know
And for years we went on droving
North and South with Mobs we'd go
With mobs from up in Queensland
Cross borders far and free
Then down the old 'Strezlecki..
To the railhead at Marree
Where we'd load them into wagons
Then turn our heads for town
To start the next job planning
Another mob to bring on down
But the Droving days are over
Road trains ply their faster trade
Still the Drover has his memories
Of all the trips he made
It's an era I'll remember
Up until my dying day
And I'll not forget 'Ol Romy'
My old mate of yesterday..
M.B.Poems 2010....
He stood 'round 14:3
He had a damn good temperament
Well...pretty much like me
Was kind and honest ..did his job
He never questioned orders
we'd chased a lot of cattle tho'
And crossed a lot of borders
There's only once that springs to mind
When he was only three
T'was my fault things got hectic
And 'Ol Romy' would agree
But that's a few years bygone hence
When I was young and green
So pull a stump and settle down
And visualize the scene
I rolled my swag and packed my gear
And walked towards my horse
Happy in my chosen work
A drovers life of course
I placed the sweat cloth on his back
And eased the saddle up
I tightened up the cinches
Then started to mount up
I swung loosely to the saddle
And gathered up the reins
Then 'Romy' just exploded
Like a ruptured water mains
His shoulders lifted rigid
He caught me by surprise
I saw myself in orbit
Right before my very eyes
The gap got real wider
T'ween the saddle and my rear
And I knew that leaving leather
Was very very near
But in determination
With all the strength to find
I hung on for my 'crown jewels'
Were foremost on my mind
He bucked and rose and grunted
I knew something was amiss
For never had 'Ol Romy'
Ever acted up like this
It seemed like it was ages
But was seconds I am sure
Then I got off and left him
I was feeling rather sore
He'd sent the camp gear flying
He had kicked a lot of sand
I looked and there stood 'cookie'
With a shovel in his hand
The look he gave was fit to kill
As I sit here thinking that
If I had spoke a single word
He would have broke my back
But I had turned to 'Romy'
Something was not right
I had to find a reason
For his sudden airborne fright
So I took my gear down off him
To check it thoroughly
To find a damn Nagoora Burr
Was ne'er the death of me
From that day on I never missed
A time to check my 'tack'
I always check my saddle cloth
And brush my horses back
T'was only once in his whole life
'Oh boy' he let me know
And for years we went on droving
North and South with Mobs we'd go
With mobs from up in Queensland
Cross borders far and free
Then down the old 'Strezlecki..
To the railhead at Marree
Where we'd load them into wagons
Then turn our heads for town
To start the next job planning
Another mob to bring on down
But the Droving days are over
Road trains ply their faster trade
Still the Drover has his memories
Of all the trips he made
It's an era I'll remember
Up until my dying day
And I'll not forget 'Ol Romy'
My old mate of yesterday..
M.B.Poems 2010....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
This is poem of my earlier life and the drastic results from Nagoora Burrs...in Horses manes and tails and saddle gear..sometimes funny .sometimes with devastating results..QH. ....M.B.Poems is my copyright...
Strange Land
Woke up this morning to a strange day
The year was 2013
Now life is lived in the strange way
A way I had never seen
Once I rode with the lone ranger
And a close friend to superman
But now I feel like such a stranger
Living in a strange land
Even the weather seems out of place
The world is out of rhythm and time
Death is staring everyone in the face
People are losing heart with so much on their mind
What lies beyond the bend
Do we look for the sun to shine
Do we fear to stumble again
Or a rock and a hard place be the bind
It's as though a map has been drawn
With a water color blend
Which way is right or wrong
Just change the channel and still see the view of a strange land
The year was 2013
Now life is lived in the strange way
A way I had never seen
Once I rode with the lone ranger
And a close friend to superman
But now I feel like such a stranger
Living in a strange land
Even the weather seems out of place
The world is out of rhythm and time
Death is staring everyone in the face
People are losing heart with so much on their mind
What lies beyond the bend
Do we look for the sun to shine
Do we fear to stumble again
Or a rock and a hard place be the bind
It's as though a map has been drawn
With a water color blend
Which way is right or wrong
Just change the channel and still see the view of a strange land
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
Post Comment
How high is the sky?
How high is the sky? Once tried to fly a kite...it flew a few kilometre high ...and still climbing up till my ropes was no more ..going up was easier it took one hour ..and then I decide to reel it Back..after 4 hours and twenty guys later ...we only got a mile Back and was totally exhausted !! ..what goes up MUST come down ..We waited an hour of breathless air..and yet it hung up there forever ...one hour before sunset we've given up hope ...of getting it Back in time for dinner.. I stayed Back reeling in till it was supper and yet i've only got Back another half a mile ...by bedtime my father came to take me Back ...he was worried that I was lost or hurt... We bid our goodbye to Mr.Kite and cut it loose...and very soon it disappear from our view ...got me wondering just how high is the sky?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
Had a similar exp with a group of friends (5) we got it up and going and used a string that span 5 kilometres ...when it hit the mark it was still quite low ..after half An hour we decided to reel it in..it was total chaos and lots of bravado each one lasting not more than ten mins ..after 5 hours and with another 5 friends rope in to help ..we finally cut the string and ran home with our tails between our legs ..by the way ours was the only kite that flew the highest and longest ..our competitor got their string snapped halfway and it crash on top of the flat ..we never played kite againPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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