Most Liked Childhood Poems (355)

I walked a long the weary lane,Of Browning trees as Autumn came.Alone with my dog and black thorn stick, In a nearby field where rabbits sit. They danced and played in the Autumn leaves, That fell like snowflakes from the trees. A burst of speed and a violent roar, And rabbits sit and play no more. A tall pine tree the wind brought down , to lay in contrast with the brown. But the brown again will turn to green, Where Autumn leaves so brown have been.

One can never ask
For such things as
When we are given
The right time and
The right place perhaps
We were fortunate then
We are fortunate now
We’ve known each other
For a long, long time
Since before we were born
Since before the grave
How else can we describe
The life we were given
The childhood memories
Growing up on the same street
Living next door to each other
Playing with our matchbox toys
In a pile of sand
Left over by the plow
There were spring tulips
And tender green meadows
And our summer gardens
Then the stiff leaves rustling
In the chilly fall air
The big snowstorms brewing
And our snow forts
The street lights burning
Above our blue igloos
There was you my friend
And there was me

As I laid sprawled out on the park bench one summers afternoon
She sat there pleased to be away from the human bustle
I knew her, not for long but i knew her
Through the slats of the park bench her little boy showed me the clover flower
he had picked from the lawn
He hung it over one of the slats to show me it in wonder
I saw what he saw and through his eyes I became a born again child.

Even the bees are muted and the birds too ......stunned into silence by the burning sun........I'm glad to be alive to feel it .......on my skin and in my heart .. ..open now like a flower unfurling ......I allow myself to see time ,long past .........summers ,full of swallows ,fragrant hay of mostly meadowsweet ..............Im wearing that blue striped favourite frock....... .in a sunny photograph, we're gathered ,wooden rakes on our shoulders ........our shy smiles sunburnt faces from the 70s ......I'm there now hearing the murmur .......of low voicesand quiet ways.......I found violets beneath the hedge.. such joy in discovery......my garden today homes wayward violets harts tongue ferns .....beneath trees and planted rose bushes .....that summer childhood has returned.....through the unfurled flower of my heart .

my life began in poverty
new clothes and things were not for me
not for us the things of wealth
you wanna bike build it yourself

life was hard but we went on
we played outside sports and so on
we made good friends and stuck together
no matter what we found some pleasure

I had two parents one good one bad
and thinking back this still makes me sad
but these things moulded me you see
helped make me be the man you see

looking back I came through ok
some friends didn't I`m sorry to say
but life goes on and now I`m freer
and my aches and pains mean I`m still here

Aata nahi jinhe udna..
Pankh laga do unko...
Sara jaha ye unka..
Badlega dekho....

Nile umber me..
Udta hai, wo bhi...
Pankh judte hi bante..
Saitaan ki pari...

Aao pankh lagaau..
Tumhaari yaado ko..
Wo hi yad mera..
Hausla ban jate ho..tum!!

Gusse me muh fulana..
Mujhe acha lage...

Socho kitna acha ho...
Chaand par khelenge hum..

Hum huse to suraj hasega..
Maasoom uska hai dil...

Carry me home
Like a leaf in a breeze on an autumn morn
Like the sound of laughter from our youth
The familiar smell of rhubarb pie
On a cold and clammy eve in July


Carry me home
To where we would sit and chat
About everything and anything, just this and that
An inviting fire, a tune from a guitar
The whistle of a kettle never too far


Carry me home
To the place I know so well
Where memories are made
Hopes and dreams shared
No matter the distance
My heart will always be
At home, in my safe place
To be still, to be me..

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nobby was my little brother

However he was driven mentally insane

There wasn’t a thing I could do

To stop the torture or the mental pain

 

Oh Nobby I am so sorry

That you were born to be a boy

To be toughened up

For my parents to destroy

 

Punch after punch Blow after blow

From a boxer in the army

Daddy beat you up

Into an emotional Tsunami

 

So when you grew up

You flipped your wig

Beating up everyone

You felt really big

 

Your wife and three daughters

Had to go into hiding

Yet her dad was the only one

She could confide in

 

Bashing on his door

Shouting “where’s my fu*king wife"

Threatening the old man

With a petrol chainsaw knife

 

 
Smashing up his van

By ramming yours into his

Terrifying the neighbours

And your own kids

 

The hatred that was in you

Wouldn’t allow you any peace

Until your father-in-law

Lifted the shotgun

And the double barrel he released

 

He blew away your head

While you were rolling a cigarette

Outside a London police station

Without a single regret

 

He received two years sentence

Cus he was provoked beyond all doubt

I visited him in prison

With cigarette papers and some snout

 

I just wanted to hear his story

Letting him know I bare no grudge

To bring him my forgiveness

As God is the only judge

 

He may have pulled the trigger

Of that double barrelled gun

Yet who loaded the ammunition?

Yes my dad and my mum...

I recall when I was a boy
When all alone
In my darkened room
Unable to sleep
I would feel the call
To turn the dial and watch the light
Moving the needle
On that shortwave scale
All of the World would be my friend
Voices from places so far away
Moscow and Bonn and Sofia too;
Tirana, Japan and Kazakhstan
From iciest north
To exotic isles
Talking to me about their lives
Their news and reports
And points of view
Never bored
Always something new
Hours of time
Spent listening in
Spies in numbers
Talking over the lines
Long ago in those cold war times
Now its all static
The bands are dead
Victim of the net
And stupid fools
But I remember
When the world was alive
On my Radio ...