Here is a list of Childhood Poems ordered by Most Commented, 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.
heart so cold
heart so cold winter born love and life soft as grey but torn away just to laugh but cry just a little bit of humble pie smile for me even when im just in misery love me now more then life as i feel i am empty looking for strangers hands to guide my way into happiness again
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Posted: Sep 2010
Post CommentLittle Mary Bottle : Part 2
Twas a beautiful day in Cutesville as beautiful as could be.
And little Mary Bottle was cheerful as cheerful could be.
Today was the day that Mary most desired, today was the day of
the pageant to pick "Best Child" of Cutesville this year.
The presents that came with the title were wonderful indeed. Toys and clothes and books to read and a bicycle with whistles and bells and red streamers too. But best of all was every child's desire, free candy, candy for one whole year!
Little Mary put on her best frock and preened and cooed before the mirror to be just right. But across town was the dirty little boy, the little boy that was not just right. He too wanted to be the "Best Child", but how could that be? He was worried and sad for no one would pick him of that he was sure. But try he must, cause he also desired the prizes. And most of all he wanted the new clothes so that he could fit in and maybe one day have a mother and father that would love him as he needed to be. ....to be continued.
And little Mary Bottle was cheerful as cheerful could be.
Today was the day that Mary most desired, today was the day of
the pageant to pick "Best Child" of Cutesville this year.
The presents that came with the title were wonderful indeed. Toys and clothes and books to read and a bicycle with whistles and bells and red streamers too. But best of all was every child's desire, free candy, candy for one whole year!
Little Mary put on her best frock and preened and cooed before the mirror to be just right. But across town was the dirty little boy, the little boy that was not just right. He too wanted to be the "Best Child", but how could that be? He was worried and sad for no one would pick him of that he was sure. But try he must, cause he also desired the prizes. And most of all he wanted the new clothes so that he could fit in and maybe one day have a mother and father that would love him as he needed to be. ....to be continued.
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Posted: Nov 2010
Post CommentLittle Mary Bottle : Part 3
And so the little boy from across town also preened and primped. He smoothed his unruly hair and brushed his teeth till they were as white as white could be. From under his bed did the little boy pull a box, a box that held a jacket and pants. He donned the suit and put on his black shiny shoes and straightened his tie. Oh my, oh my didn't
he look so fine, as fine as fine could be.
The hour approached as everyone gathered in the town square. And the all important judges were there, there in the town square. The contestants stood in one straight line, each one smiling the biggest smile one ever did see. And so it began, the judges judging and judging some more. How to decide, oh how will they know, which little boy or little girl will be the winner, better than all.
Little Mary Bottle was happy and hopeful that she would win. She grinned, she grinned and grinned some more. It was her turn to show her talent and a talent is was..spinning bottles, different colours and different sizes, spinning and spinning some more. Till all the bottles in Cutesville were spinning and spinning as one. The judges smiled and nodded as one...maybe she's the winner, maybe.
Twas the little boys turn. What shall he do. He shook, he pondered and he was afraid. He always sang in his little room and the birds joined as the chorus, is this what he should do? And so he began with a faltering note. He hung his head as a tear he did shed, hit his black shiny shoe, and he thought I can't do.
he look so fine, as fine as fine could be.
The hour approached as everyone gathered in the town square. And the all important judges were there, there in the town square. The contestants stood in one straight line, each one smiling the biggest smile one ever did see. And so it began, the judges judging and judging some more. How to decide, oh how will they know, which little boy or little girl will be the winner, better than all.
Little Mary Bottle was happy and hopeful that she would win. She grinned, she grinned and grinned some more. It was her turn to show her talent and a talent is was..spinning bottles, different colours and different sizes, spinning and spinning some more. Till all the bottles in Cutesville were spinning and spinning as one. The judges smiled and nodded as one...maybe she's the winner, maybe.
Twas the little boys turn. What shall he do. He shook, he pondered and he was afraid. He always sang in his little room and the birds joined as the chorus, is this what he should do? And so he began with a faltering note. He hung his head as a tear he did shed, hit his black shiny shoe, and he thought I can't do.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
Post Comment* Illusions *
I used to believe in illusion.. there was a time when I would close my eyes and believe that the stars were shining only for me I would carry my illusions with me, as if they were a child in a womb imagining.. that with their birth I'd know complete happiness I would let go of reality within every breath I took. for illusions walked within me like clouds wander the sky - I would ignore it all- but one day.. maturity came to visit, and I was certain that just like innocence it would be harmless and precious. I was wrong.. It walked inside, and stole my illusions.. breaking my heart and fixing it at the same time. For I realized that reality as much as illusion is senseless.. and I'll forever remain an illusionist to my soul.
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Posted: Jul 2011
Post CommentSHE WROTE THIS (i have dimentia)
SHE PENNED THIS (N0T ME, I HAVE DIMENTIA)
Often we meet new people and know
We just don’t know what to say
Sometimes you just want to rise up and go
But then the lord of dance wills you to stay
I always compare it to a dove seeking a mate
While landing with grace on the highest tower
The dove knows all about providence and fate
While the Lord of dance grants him a power
Suddenly where a dove roosted all alone
Because of the power he had been granted
Two doves agreed to face the unknown
Because seeds will grow if properly planted
Sitting by a fast food restaurant waiting
Watching people pass by and time as well
This is that which I am unequivocally stating
To some pretty lady I’m a pretty hard sell
So the dance continues or it fades away
No melody, no harmony and everything seems wrong
But oftentimes the Lord of dance has his say
And soon two are singing the very same song
© 2011.…..~SHE!~
Often we meet new people and know
We just don’t know what to say
Sometimes you just want to rise up and go
But then the lord of dance wills you to stay
I always compare it to a dove seeking a mate
While landing with grace on the highest tower
The dove knows all about providence and fate
While the Lord of dance grants him a power
Suddenly where a dove roosted all alone
Because of the power he had been granted
Two doves agreed to face the unknown
Because seeds will grow if properly planted
Sitting by a fast food restaurant waiting
Watching people pass by and time as well
This is that which I am unequivocally stating
To some pretty lady I’m a pretty hard sell
So the dance continues or it fades away
No melody, no harmony and everything seems wrong
But oftentimes the Lord of dance has his say
And soon two are singing the very same song
© 2011.…..~SHE!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
BECAUSE SHE'S A CHEAP DATE!Boyhood -----Maturity
There was this young boy
who grew up fast to find no joy
street smart,work ethics made him wise
proving to family and friends much surprise
trapped in this spiral of child labour
reasoning with parents found no favour
after a seven year job fast
he had his freedom at last
young girls were his joy
running wild was he boy oh boy
rebelling was the answer to the law
this was his undoing as he soon saw
soon this young man became a father
learning to budget,shave and lather
the trophy wife at his side
25 years was all she would bide
now alone with his offspring
she the daughter the joy she bring
looking again for special mate
right now nothing on his plate
hopefully soon the gods will send
a lady that he will defend
at this half journey of his life
he knows he needs a wife
a union of two souls
who will eat from same bowl
this companion,this Eve
is the one who is to weave
the final chapter of this book
this road on which i took
who grew up fast to find no joy
street smart,work ethics made him wise
proving to family and friends much surprise
trapped in this spiral of child labour
reasoning with parents found no favour
after a seven year job fast
he had his freedom at last
young girls were his joy
running wild was he boy oh boy
rebelling was the answer to the law
this was his undoing as he soon saw
soon this young man became a father
learning to budget,shave and lather
the trophy wife at his side
25 years was all she would bide
now alone with his offspring
she the daughter the joy she bring
looking again for special mate
right now nothing on his plate
hopefully soon the gods will send
a lady that he will defend
at this half journey of his life
he knows he needs a wife
a union of two souls
who will eat from same bowl
this companion,this Eve
is the one who is to weave
the final chapter of this book
this road on which i took
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2010
About this poem:
This is about life's tribulations and adversities so fraught with possibilities at a tender age.what we choose so early in life gallops to a race that we can stop at our own choosing at any stage of our lives.Life Poem
A baby is born, what do you see?
A baby dolphin swimming in our sea
Swimming and swimming day by day
After a few months comes time to play.
Playing and playing day by day
After a few months the babe puts on display,
Jumping and diving day by day!
What fun it is to see such array.
After a few months the babe has grown all bold and strong.
Swimming, diving, hunting with joy, living life day by day.
After a few months all settled and alone exploring the world is what should be done.
Meeting others and being with friends is life and how it could be done.
One day or more the time will come a baby is now something more
A parent, an entertainer, maybe a hunter too, in the end we find our purpose so they say and by then we do what our hearts have to say living life and living it proud.
A baby dolphin swimming in our sea
Swimming and swimming day by day
After a few months comes time to play.
Playing and playing day by day
After a few months the babe puts on display,
Jumping and diving day by day!
What fun it is to see such array.
After a few months the babe has grown all bold and strong.
Swimming, diving, hunting with joy, living life day by day.
After a few months all settled and alone exploring the world is what should be done.
Meeting others and being with friends is life and how it could be done.
One day or more the time will come a baby is now something more
A parent, an entertainer, maybe a hunter too, in the end we find our purpose so they say and by then we do what our hearts have to say living life and living it proud.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2010
About this poem:
I wrote this poem because I often think about life and how its important that despite our challenges there is always something to look forward to. I Chose to use a dolphin in this poem because I'm a diver and love them.First Kiss
Her name was Christine Edwards
Wih pigtail hair
And I adored her
From the next desk
Whilst she ignored me,
With a playground push.
She liked me rolling
On the ground
And making funny noises
To make her laugh
Then Christmas came
And I walked her home
With Mistletoe scratching my flimsy pocket.
And finally, outside her house.
I took it out, with funny noises.
And held it above
Her head
And she laughed loudly.
And pushed me away.
And went inside,
And closed the door.
And I stood smiling,
In the cold fog air,
And tasted salt,
As the tears
Kissed my lips.
Wih pigtail hair
And I adored her
From the next desk
Whilst she ignored me,
With a playground push.
She liked me rolling
On the ground
And making funny noises
To make her laugh
Then Christmas came
And I walked her home
With Mistletoe scratching my flimsy pocket.
And finally, outside her house.
I took it out, with funny noises.
And held it above
Her head
And she laughed loudly.
And pushed me away.
And went inside,
And closed the door.
And I stood smiling,
In the cold fog air,
And tasted salt,
As the tears
Kissed my lips.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2010
About this poem:
I was 8. She was 9. Beware of Cougars.....Rock Me to Sleep
BACKWARD, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,— 10
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;— 15
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
By: Elizabeth (Akers) Allen. 1832–1911
Make me a child again just for to-night!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,— 10
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;— 15
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I to-night for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,—
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber's soft calms o'er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead to-night,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood's years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother,—rock me to sleep!
By: Elizabeth (Akers) Allen. 1832–1911
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2010
About this poem:
Written by Elizabeth (Akers) Allen. 1832–1911I am your Love always
I am your Love always
I am your child who plays
your hand holding my hand
Playing with me in the sand
Helping me learn and grow
Like the seed you sow
you are my everything
you are my one thing
I love to listen to your song
Not a tune or word wrong
Forever with me by my side
Your love for me you never hide
I am your child who plays
your hand holding my hand
Playing with me in the sand
Helping me learn and grow
Like the seed you sow
you are my everything
you are my one thing
I love to listen to your song
Not a tune or word wrong
Forever with me by my side
Your love for me you never hide
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
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