My Childhood Memories
Childhood memories are often steeped in mystery.
The older we get the memories exclude
sometimes things we might find painful as we journeyed on.
I tried to visualise my childhood as a happy one,
though I know in my heart it was a very much lonely one.
Not only was I shy, but I never mixed very well.
I spent so much of my time nearly always on my own.
The only exciting time I can remember
was one summer I spent with friends of my father
whom I referred to as Aunt Elsie and Uncle Jim.
For the two months I spent with them
in a small town called Allison
hold some of the best memories of my childhood.
It was away from my parents
and into someone’s house that cared.
I went fishing every day
in the stream at the end of the garden,
made many friends
and had one of the most enjoyable times
of my childhood
that will always live within me.
5-6 June 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Childhood Garden
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden
my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden
poem by Danielle Eager
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Childhood Memories Sung to the Tune of Shawnee West Franklin Bison Blues
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
Mine is sere
Throughout the year
Nothing grows here
Some people have a childhood rainbow
A sea of colors all aglow
Some people have a childhood rainbow
Red to violet in a row
Mine is gray
Bow of clay
Without a ray
Some people have a childhood temple
Covered with a million treasured dreams
Some people have a childhood temple
A sunny Wat of Gods and kings
Mine is plain
Squats in the rain
Functional 'n sane
Where childhood memories abound
Life flows vividly around
Where childhood memories have fled
Hearts lie dead
Childhood Revisited
memories of childhood...
such a wonderful, hazy, warm feeling,
special memories, filled with love
come welling up, and send my senses reeling,
aromatic fragrance, wafting up from the kitchen,
aroma of my mothers cooking,
father getting ready for work,
how handome he is looking,
I'm ready for school., hair plaited,
clutch my little, sisters hand tightly
bags perched securely on our backs
and off we go, skipping lightly,
lessons and studies, dilligently done,
supervised by dad, but always fun,
carefree, happy times were those
one could do, what one chose....
the familiar house, and the close kinship
so many friends, and closely knit friendship,
no cares, no worries, they were not for us,
only love and protection, and a special fuss,
what wonderful years I can never forget
a happy childhood is an important asset
and now we are grown........
only memories are left....
when we are feeling down, or nostalgic,
just go back to those magical years...
relive those times, that sparkling innocence,
that time, devoid of from doubt and fears
oh childhood...so quickly did you fly
your very memory makes us sigh...
and remember.and smile, and feel content
for the Godgiven wonderful years, so well spent...
oh childhood, I hope I have been a good mother,
what I learnt from you, I hope I have given another,
a treasure for my children, to recall, and to cherish
a treasure to revel in and sustain, when we perish.
poem by Arti Chopra
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Memories of Childhood
memories so many,
arent they sweet like honey?
i remember my childhood days;
when me and my sister lazed.
the time when i rolled in mud,
or; the time when i fell down
the time when i saw a meteor,
or; the time when i went to school.
the time when i threw stones at cows,
or; the time when i was chased by a mouse!
old memories are filled with fun and joy,
things to be remembered and loved.
and; time came for me to grow up;
to sit in the armchair;
to remember............................
(stuffed in my mind)
my childhood memories.
poem by Aparna Subramanian
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Happy Childhood Memories
Happy childhood memories the best memories of all
And my younger years in Millstreet I will always recall
On evenings in Summer up to the mid Fall
In the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic football
My friends of my youth where might they be today
Like me have the years left them balder and gray
Though some of them in the home Parish did stay
In life one might say we just went our own way
Since those days so many years have come and gone
And time does not wait it just ticks on and on
Many of the friends of my youth I may not see again
Though good memories of them with me does remain
And in fancy I chase the football up and down
With my happy young friends in the Park of the Town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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We Used To
Mmm....
We used to walk through fields of green
We used to sit by clear blue streams
We used to be so happy
Me and you
We used to do such silly things
We used to make love in the rain
We used to
Yes, we used to
Then you went away
Leaving me with the memories we made
Memories of those sweet yesterdays
Spent with you
Spent with you
And even though youre gone
I still think so often of you
And the things that we no longer do
Like we used to
Oh we used to
We used to be so much in love
We used to kiss and hold and touch
We used to find so many things to do
We used to laugh and plan and dream
We used to own the world it seemed
We used to
Yes we used to
Then you went away
Leaving me with the memories we made
Memories of those sweet yesterdays
Spent with you
Spent with you
Oh and even though youre gone
I still think so often of you
And the things that we no longer do
Like we used to
Oh we used to
La...mmm....
Ahh....
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Childhood Faded Away
Childhood Faded away,
to a far away land,
simple, so simple were we,
Days of Play,
Going our Way,
Having fun, no care,
for another day,
time for us stood still,
playing king of the hill
Childhood Faded away
thinking of another day,
summer time was fine,
when friends were kind,
swiming holes were filled,
our hearts were thrilled
Childhood Faded Away
to a time that makes me sway
many years have passed away,
since childhood faded to another day,
Childhood Faded to places,
UNKNOWN TO US
floating somewhere in time.
wrote 1-15-07
Outsider
The many childhood memories that I have
are lonely ones of being an outsider.
I never mixed very well
and was always the last one,
other children wanted to call a friend.
I was a quiet person
who spent much of his time alone
buried deep within his own thoughts.
At classes, I always got the lowest grades,
on vacation I almost always was on my own.
I would sit for hours just pondering on my thoughts.
I never grew out of being an outsider,
different from the rest.
My early life was over shadowed
by younger sister whom my parents adored.
Every achievement that I made
my sister could do it better.
Not only was I an outsider at school,
but also at home a well.
In 1959, I left the shores
of the place I called home
to go back to the place of my birth.
Not until forty-two years later
would, I set foot on that soil again.
Things in the world had changed,
but not so much for me
as I was still a stranger
in the land I called my home.
13 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Our Past Lives On With Us
We may not be in prison yet we are not truly free
For of our past we are prisoners that's how 'twould seem to me
Bad memories always haunt us they never go away
Until the Reaper claims us they are with us to stay.
For many childhood memories are full of mental pain
Their heavy cross of sorrows through their lives with them remain
Children of war and famines they cannot forget their past
Their living nightmares with them linger though few other things seem to last.
Children of abusive parents bad old memories in them stay young
They live remembering their traumas and die as the unsung
Their innocence stolen from them in their childhood of tears
Bad memories still with them undimmed by the passing years.
We may not be in prison though it would seem to me
That we prisoners of our memories of our past we can't be free
Until the Reaper claims us good and bad memories with us stay
Our past seems to live on with us and it never goes away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It Was Good Then
I go back to my childhood
And images come flying at me
These water color memories
That have faded to a certain extent
With the passage of time
Fade no more
But become no brighter.
I remember things in
Sunshine yellows
And frosty blues
Minty greens
And lavender hues.
I remember smells.
Is it even possible to remember
Smell?
But, I swear I do.
Days had their own smell
Skin had its own smell
Sticky with sweat
From playing outside at high noon.
The grass, flowers, and air
Were scented.
By some far away perfume
Carried from place to place.
I remember the feel of grass
Between my bare toes.
I remember laughter.
I remember the gnarled trunk of
A tree under my hands and
Shoeless feet
When I climbed all the way to the top
And was not afraid to look or
Climb down.
I remember being a gypsy child
Going from place to place
Town to town
Without fear.
I remember making friends
I remember innocence..
I remember
Security,
Something I have forgotten since.
I remember
Childhood
Water color memories.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Childhood never returns
Memories remain
Childhood never returns
Deep in the heart
They always burn
Life takes a turn
When youth comes
Becomes more difficult
As one grows old
More responsibilities
One has to hold
The freedom goes
Tougher it becomes
With future in mind
Memories rewind
Old days were better
Everybody chatters
Give my childhood back
One remembers
God for that
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Christmas In Lisnaboy
Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
In Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary's house of here far north and far away
We enjoyed the ham and turkey and pudding on Christmas Day
But the years went by so quickly and time has left me looking gray
And the biological clock on my life silently ticking away
Weeks before Christmas we wondered what toys Santa to us would bring
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing,
The Seasons go so quickly and the past forever gone
But the happy times from childhood in the memory living on
Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary in eternal rest now lay
But they come into my memory on the eve of Christmas Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A childhood forgotten, A childhood lost
[NOTE: THIS POEM IS NOT TO BE USED ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY CONCENT. PLEASE USE THE LINKS IN MY BIOGRAPHY OR MESSAGES ON THIS SITE TO CONTACT ME. THANKS.]
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhoods forgotten,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
or dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The crash in the fog,
My childhood was forgotten,
My childhood was lost,
The doctor doing surgery,
Me getting pills,
I can't remember any of it,
None of it's clear,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forgotten,
My childhood's lost!
Well I'm gonna end it right now,
I gonna kill myself off,
A childhood Forgotten,
A childhood lost
poem by Dani Baxter
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Memories Of The Roeside
Scenes of a childhood,
Long years ago,
Surface in memory as vivid as snow:
The Mullagh, the Dogleap,
The Wet Wood and the Dry…
Memories of the Roeside
Bringing tears to each eye.
And where are the friends
Of those days before?
Do they share the fond memories
Which I have in store?
Do they think of the Marshfield,
The old Wireless Lane,
Nicholl’s Brae, The Flat,
And the high Rock of Kane?
Do they recall the summers
By the Wee Rock at the Mill,
Or the sports in the Avenue
With many a thrill?
And what of the ‘characters’-
Ah, too many to relate;
It being good fortune
To share partly their fate…
Oh these memories of childhood,
Of school- days, of youth,
I cling to like life, as precious as truth.
And to those still living, my friends of the Roe
I drink you a toast to times long ago.
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Childhood Is...
Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup
poem by Shenika Vermaak
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Holiday
Many memories of our childhood
linger in our minds forever,
dwelling there for us to remember.
How much we wish sometimes
to go back and maybe do things a little different.
There are many things I would change
if I had my chance again, but I can’t.
However, saying that I remember
a holiday I wish I could relive again and again.
I am not sure what summer it was,
but what I do remember was staying
with a surrogate unt and Uncle
who gave me the best time of my life.
We travelled around the Great Lakes
with all their wonders to see.
Camped out in tents under the moonlight,
and fished for our breakfast, lunch and dinner.
It was the most exciting time in my life.
It seemed longer now than it really was,
yet it was over fifty years ago.
The days remain fresh in my mind
though the faces are now vague.
The fun I had remains as fresh as ever
of the greatest holiday I ever had.
12 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Young Zed Next Door
Patrick and Fleur have a baby daughter Arabella a little sister for young Zed next door
And he's so happy with his new born sibling and he himself still so young only four
And when you ask him how's his baby sister with a happy smile he answers she is good
These are the happiest days he will remember the foundation to a good life a happy childhood.
A fair haired boy with a cheerful disposition in years from now doubtless he will recall
His happy days in Watt street in Wonthaggi for good childhood memories are the best of all
His life journey may take him from Wonthaggi and he yet may live in a Land far away
But the miracle of the birth of Arabella through his life span with him destined to stay.
Young Zed next door is learning about Nature how birds and bees take nectar from the flowers
The honeyeaters sing in the back garden and magpie blows his flute in Spring's green hours
In Nature's garden natural growth is vibrant and blossoms bloom after the brief Spring showers
And childhood like Spring is such a time of beauty children's lives so spiritual when compared to ours.
I envy Zed his joy and innocence of childhood his young and happy soul full of sunshine
Long years ago and in a different country such joy and happiness was also mine
In Spring the World around me full of beauty and the lark was carolling in the clear blue sky
And wild brown bees out busy gathering nectar buzzing above the fields of Lisnaboy.
Young Zed next door is full of life and vigour he's such a cheerful and a happy boy
And the miracle of the birth of his young sister Arabella is
a thing he will look back on and enjoy
And in years from now these times he will remember though from Wonthaggi he may live far away
For happy childhood memories are the best of memories and through our life span with us tend to stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Childhood Hero
Caught a glimpse of my childhood hero
As he strutted along the path today.
He created pictures from words,
Made this world come alive, with
A magic that was never matched.
As he swaggered past me today
He looked old, tired and grey
Flashes of songs, floated cross my mind,
Stirring long forgotten memories
Made by the man I saw today, long, long ago.
There was a touch of aged slowness in,
The walk of the man I called my childhood hero,
What had happened to the man I remember
As invincible and beyond question
In that childhood world of mine?
And then I saw a wink and a twinkle
A spark of dancing magic and
A mischievous glint
In the icy blueness of the eyes
Of the man I called my childhood hero.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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But A Memory
My life is but a memory
It seems all in the past
and each day that is given to me
feels just like the last
Memories of lovers
memories of friends
memories of summer day
I thought it would never end
Memories of days
I spent on the beach
Dreaming of the girl
That was just out of reach
and days spent pondering life's miracles
and what was meant by each
wondering is it spiritual
or just a pretty girl and a beach
I can't remember
I can't remember,
Skipping rocks on the pond,
My childhood forever gone,
My Childhoods lost,
Going to the lake,
Sitting on the beach,
Playing with friends,
And dancing in the streets,
I can't remember,
The talk I had with dad,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood was lost,
I still can't remember,
How it is gone,
My childhood forever gone,
My childhood's lost!
By: Demarcus Reynolds
poem by Demarcus Reynolds
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