Most Liked Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

I remember the fairground when I was a child, there
Was the candy Fairy Floss machines, and you could
See them spinning the spider webs of sugar which
Made up the sweet delight, that children loved to eat
Then There was Sideshow Alleys with its clown stall
With the moving heads and popping the balls into it's
Mouth, there was the shooting galleries and penny
Toss events and many other things to play, there was a
Ghost Train and the Dodgem Cars and Boats, where
Bumping deliberately was not allowed, the Penny Arcade
With Pinball games and the Claw Crane where you tried
To grab a prize If you where lucky, penny slots which
Could give you a free ball and your penny back by flicking
A lever, and now the main events, the Big Dipper or
Roller Coaster, it would leave you going back for your
Stomach, the large Slippery Dips, Hall of Mirrors and
The Tunnel of Love river caves, Ferris Wheel and the
Helter Skelter where you rode down a spiral on a mat
But the one thing that stands out in the Fairground
Was the giant Carousel, a beautiful hand crafted
Turntable loaded with beautifully crafted wooden
Horses, which where all hand painted, children would
Always want to ride this iconic ride and if you where
Able to grab the brass ring, you would get another
Ride absolutely free, yes the Fairground was an event
In itself, as children would always want to go there
All of the time and even the adults would ask their
Children to go, because inside every adult lived
Another little child, they all loved the Fairground.

i spilled a coffee on the beach
i saw a wasp land on my peach
i took a swig of irn bru
and thought of me, yes, me and you
and how we laughed when the cyclist fell
and broke his arm and leg as well
but those days are gone
and am back on
dating sites.

I'd like to hear an old song today
Spinnin round 45
I'd like to hear it in the old way
Spinnin round 45

Let the music stir my soul
Feel good and tap my feet
Nothing like yesterday's rock n roll
When every song had that beat

The record player was a work of art
The needle, the arm,static at the start
The cover glistens over the speakers tone
Dont close the lid,play one more song

One more song to make you feel alive
spinnin round 45

I'm grateful for the silent time
To think and make a plan
When the morning world is mine
I do because I can.

I love the quietude of dawn
Before the sun's completely up
I rub my eyes and give a yawn
And fill once more my coffee cup.

The morning songs of birds awakening
In the misty dawn
Sets my very soul aquaking
Like windblown grass of lawn.

The springtime morns especially treat me
With the springtime birds of song
The robins come to early greet me
The blue jays also come along.

Thank God for mornings, whatever season
They're a beauty to behold
I'll not be broke for any reason
Because the mornings are my gold

we all have heard that lilting tune
"the day the music died"
but we all know that's not the case
let's put all that aside
let''s go to the beginning
where the whole thing was unlatched
discover now, just what went on
the day the music hatched
it might have been the babble
of a lovely little brook
and chattering of animals
that came to take a look
in nature, there are rhythms
and a symphony of sound
and mankind cocked an ear
whenever they would come around
for the nature's sound was soothing
and the rhythms rocked their bones
like the fire that man discovered
taken back into their homes
then the replication started
and its energy was snatched
and yes, mankind hit the jackpot
on the day the music hatched




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Rain . . .

Softly falling down . . .
each drop a symphony of sound . . .
as it hits the tin roof . . .
tap . . . tap . . . tap.

It can sound just like a sad song with a slow beat . . .
the kind that makes you daydream . . .
and feel sad and sigh . . .
as you think of what might of been or could be in your life.

Or maybe it is a happy song that brings back sweet memories . . .
tender thoughts and special smiles . . .
thinking of someone who makes your heart beat faster . . .
and your laughter ring with happiness and joy.

Or maybe it is a love song . . .
with sweet and soft lyrics . . .
tender and romantic and sensual . . .
that makes you think of dancing in the rain.

Only you can decide which song . . .
is the one you are hearing . . .
which music soothes your soul . . .
and which song you want to sing along with.

Sometimes, you have to choose a song . . .
and the choosing isn't easy

In the sway of creation

I was born beautiful,

a perfect child of love.



But on my way

to ever after

I gave myself away

and became the perfect offering.

Sometimes it's cosy to live in the past,

amongst faded memories you'd like to last,

behind the shadows that made you smile,

a safe place to dwell for a while.

Living in the former is all that we do,

an uncertain future for us to view,

tied to the past stuck in the present,

no time to relax but time to resent.

Revolutions of the mind thoughts persist,

photocopied days you try to resist,

light from the moon rays from the sun,

a celestial divider of days to become.

We cannot look forward only look back,

the road ahead invisible behind a murky track,

the spotlights on the here and today,

yet history is closer than the future far away.

We step out of the shadows toward the dawn,

lingering in the moment before we're born,

the womb of life reassuringly close,

cradle to the grave and then a ghost.

An unfamiliar journey we try to perceive,

those bound to the past are often deceived,

the only time you feel your winning,

comfy in the past from your beginning.

We tend to look backwards yet stare straight ahead,

a long-familiar history but a future we dread,

yet an unknown equation we try to prevent,

is the past meeting the future and robbing the present.

The mask you wear breeds mystery

The eyes of sheer intensity

A dimming star with no reason or rhyme

Purposely, constantly falling through time

Who alone would stop this flight

Through somber tales of endless night

Rapt inside the captured dawn

And find you're but a foolish pawn

A drone amongst simplistic view

From binds about to take your cue

nonsensical ramblings of minds insight

A violent tale of fools delight

Awake from the dream that stole your fight

And follow it down to the end of the night.

After many a drink
in some far away pub
I once or twice fancied
joining a handsome man club...

Hmm it first seemed a plan
the only prerequisite
that one be a handsome man...

Realizing error or room for reasonable doubt
or possessing picture proof to show
that I could very well be left out
after gazing in foggy hanging bedroom mirror...

Seeing no dashing movie star look
thinking my name will never be found
in some shady Hollywood agents address book...

After coming down to cold sobering reality
perhaps even calling this absurd idea a day
my love hugged and whispered to humble me
she would always love me unconditionally anyway...

Even if I am some wild weed or flowery shrub
I was her forever lover and eternal best friend
that I didn't have to be in any handsome man club..