Most Liked Nostalgia Poems (1,154)

Today, just for today I want to climb onto your lap and feel your strength.

Today, only for today I need to be needed and held like a child.

Tomorrow, tomorrow I will have pushed back this longing and gone back to the real world.

Tomorrow, the Woman will begin the daily drama of life and will not listen to the soul she has forgotten to hear.

Careless Whisper by Wham
Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by Wham
I Feel For You by Chaka Khan
Every Time You Go Away by Paul Young
We Are The World by USA for Africa
Part-time Lover by Stevie Wonder
Cool It Now by New Edition
Lovergirl by Teena Marie
All I Need by Jack Wagner
Never Surrender by Corey Hart
The Boys of Summer by Don Henley
One Night In Bangkok by Murray Head
Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears
Smooth Operator by Sade
All Through The Night by Cyndi Lauper
Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen
Voices Carry by Til Tuesday
I Can't Hold Back by Survivor
Angel by Madonna
Jungle Love by The Time
Who's Zoomin Who by Aretha Franklin
Sentimental Street by Night Ranger

In the shadow of the Raj
the afternoon delight
smoking opium
reclined in the hills
with Wallace
from the company
who through the haze
winked at me
as the Thai girl
brought in the tea

Wallace knew rubber
as I knew the jungle
we had fashioned
an alliance of sorts
as men do
in arduous conditions
"My good man"
as he was wont to declare
bristling with Etonian accent
downplayed his intentions
a disingenuous disguise
his virtues being few
"there is much to be done,
the world awaits Sir"

I took the hot tea
and considered the prospect
of rubber, men and machetes

I idly moved the curtain
and through the screen
I watched
Wallace's rigid frame
retreating stoically
midship
along the village road.
Making haste for the water
he glanced disdainfully
at the unkempt girl
corralling chickens
while the clove drawing
cigarette man
eyed him suspiciously
from a hut doorway
above the river.
Is it not God's will
he murmured to himself
that I should bring
a civilizing influence
to this damned outpost
of heat and destitution.
All three before him
had yielded to the mission
all missing in action
yet the company still
believed in rubber
believed in Wallace
and the empire
upon which the sun
never sets.

The riverboat eased downstream Wallace resting
on sacks of fruit, he cursed his boots as his feet swelled.
Two laconic barefoot fishermen squinting in the evening light
ran lines into the opaque waters.
He could observe the jungle expanse from his post,
verdant and vined, primitive noises and life, it seemed neither friend nor foe.
At least he had met Atkins, who he trusted with jungle lore, and despite his
apparent predilection for opium, he knew Atkins had sway with the village elders, and could muster men to a cause. Tomorrow they would set out across the flats towards the hills, with rifles, supplies, water and quinine.

Rubber and tin
tonic and gin
deep in Malaya
Wallace rose
to the sight
of Atkins
parading
like the Sultan's emissary
towards his hut
No finer man
could he have procured
for such a mission
he determined,
resolutely confident
amongst his peers.
"A day for the cool of the hills Wallace"
"Indeed Sir" he responded, "'tis destiny that finds us at the mercy of this wretched jungle but we shall overcome the odds my good man"
He drank from the rainwater vessel before they set off for the interior.
On a rise they took view of the valley plateau that ran from the river to the distant mountains, green with wild fruit trees and rice paddies.
"The objective Atkins is to wrestle a lease from these inhabitants, should they be disposed to entreat us so, we must give the impression that the Sultan has allied with us in spirit my man, that these lands are bound for greater duty to humanity"
Atkins stared at the hills, the prospect amused him as it had when presented by Wallace's predecessors.
"A vision it is Wallace" he replied somewhat unctuously
"A vision it is"

That quiet light that shines in the night
Above the porch door and the snowy floor
What draws a smile wide for what’s inside
How the warmth in kind illuminates the mind
For our hearts be known the love that’s shown
So come on inside and do not hide
Nice and cozy make your cheeks all rosy
Have a seat by the fire and please admire
Recognize the pleasance of your presence
And know my dear you’re welcome here

Bengawan Solo,flowing endlessly,,to the holy flow of the river,I pray today too. Bengawan Solo ,so many dreams,praising Happy days we sing together,,Oh Holy River ,the heart of my mother flowing endlessly,,with the song of prayer on my lips,flowing endlessly. Even though the flowers bloom and fall,the love we have sworn will never never change forever more...(Translated from Japanse song of Bengawan Solo,,into English.) by Satoshi Okano (e-mail ;cross557@blue.megaegg.ne.jp ( I live in Kure city,Hiroshima prefecture,Japan. Japanse married man aged 75

A dream, always just a dream.
A gentle yes strong arm just wrapping around you as you stand wondering.
A shoulder that you can lean into knowing that no matter what it will still be there.
A set of eyes that look into you, know you and yet yearn to discover more of you.
Lips that you can't stop kissing, that curl up in a knowing smile, when he sees that you remember how they feel.
A chest and lap that is home.
I know Him he is out there but in this life I might have to just settle for my dreams.

Twilight:

The softness of the day,
mellow tones,
removing the sharpness of the sun.

Settling down,
the birds chirping softly,
the crickets singing.

Bringing a close to the day,
a time to stop and breath.

A time to remember and wonder.