Ennis Once Upon A Time
ENNIS ONCE UPON A TIME
BY
JAMES BREDIN
Ennis will forever be enshrined in my mind,
A small mark on the map from another place and time.
Memories dimmed by many years as though cut with a knife,
First seventeen years of love and laughter in my life.
In a town bowed down by poverty struggling to survive,
Back lanes of half-door houses waiting someone to arrive.
Narrow winding streets full of friends and farmers' horses,
Pompous priests dressed in black who always walked on water,
And girls in long green dresses that came down below their knees,
Moving past on bicycles; boys waiting for a breeze,
And cows moving slowly herded down towards the water,
Where their blood will fill the Fergus from the houses of slaughter.
And the Christian Brothers School where Brother Brien taught,
No such thing as freedom especially freedom of thought.
We learned everything in Gaelic in the very ancient script,
Letters from the Book of Kells or some ancient warrior's crypt.
Where are the guys I knew so well; stole by emigration?
Or shied from skirts that only hurt and joined some congregation.
And now the town is filled with cars and strangers wall to wall,
A noisy rush of foreigners in a one-way traffic crawl.
And people don't have the time to talk or gossip half the day.
They're in a hurry, got to scurry, got to make their pay.
And traffic lights with tourist types looking out from buses,
This madness of modern times, I wonder ‘bout the pluses.
OCT 31ST,2012
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Ennis
Ennis will forever be enshrined in my mind,
A small mark on the map from another place and time.
Memories dimmed by many years as though cut with a knife,
First seventeen years of love and laughter in my life.
In a town bowed down by poverty struggling to survive,
Back lanes of half-door houses waiting someone to arrive.
Narrow winding streets full of friends and farmers’ horses,
Pompous priests dressed in black who always walked on water,
And girls in long green dresses that came down below their knees,
Moving past on bicycles; boys waiting for a breeze,
And cows moving slowly herded down towards the water,
Where their blood will fill the Fergus from the houses of slaughter.
And the Christian Brothers School where Brother Brien taught,
No such thing as freedom especially freedom of thought.
We learned everything in Gaelic in the very ancient script,
Letters from the Book of Kells or some ancient warrior’s crypt.
Where are the guys I knew so well; stole by emigration?
Or shied from skirts that only hurt and joined some congregation.
And now the town is filled with cars and strangers wall to wall,
A noisy rush of foreigners in a one-way traffic crawl.
And people don’t have the time to talk or gossip half the day.
They’re in a hurry, got to scurry, got to make their pay.
And traffic lights with tourist types looking out from buses,
This madness of modern times, I wonder ‘bout the pluses.
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ennis July 8th,2012
Ennis will forever be enshrined in my mind,
A small mark on the map from another place and time,
Memories dimmed by many years as though cut with a knife,
First seventeen years of love and laughter in my life,
In a town bowed down by poverty struggling to survive,
Back lanes of half-door houses waiting someone to arrive.
Narrow winding streets full of friends and farmers' horses,
Pompous priests dressed in black who always walked on water,
And girls in long green dresses that came down below their knees,
Moving past on bicycles; boys waiting for a breeze,
And cows moving slowly herded down towards the water,
Where their blood will fill the Fergus from the houses of slaughter.
And the Christian Brothers School where Brother Brien taught,
No such thing as freedom, especially freedom of thought,
We learned everything in Gaelic in the very ancient script,
Letters from the Book of Kells or some ancient warrior's crypt,
Where are the guys I knew so well; stole by emigration?
Or shied from skirts that only hurt and joined some congregation.
And now the town is filled with cars and strangers wall to wall,
A noisy rush of foreigners in a one-way traffic crawl,
And people don't have time to talk or gossip half the day,
They're in a hurry, got to scurry, got to make their pay,
And traffic lights and tourist types looking out from buses,
The madness of these modern times; I wonder 'bout the pluses.'
poem by James Bredin
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Three Men Walking
Three men walking
Along the roadside
One after another
Wearing weird caps
In the dark
The town asleep
Some traffic
Street lights
And cold
Silhouettes
Trees
Roots whirling
Some visible others hiding
Some past events
The three men
Talking to themselves
And to each other too
Smell of hey
Some old friends
The three men
Still walking
One after another
A young boy
Runs past
All covered up
Without socks
A cat with long tail
And a dog
Waiting for something to eat
Common cause
The boy
Collects rotten fruit
In a bag
Whose cause?
The three men walking
A young girl
Beaten
Cries
Selling flowers
A man with a gun
A watchman
Destroys her flowers
Water
Red colored
And black too
Going down a small stream
Blood is red
And water black
The three men
Further, into the darkness of the streets
Their caps
Water enters the shoes
Cold water
And black water
And then into the restaurant
The three men
With weird caps
Some people in the restaurant
Long faced small faced
Tired and worried
The three men
Looking from above a cabin
Some boys
And burgers
Water and tea
A common cause
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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The Boys And Girls I Went To School With
The boys and girls I went to school with from me now far away
And even some of them not living now where the dead are they lay
And in distant flights of fancy I fancy I see them yet
And them I still remember and them I won't forget.
The boys and girls I went to school with the years have left them slow
And were I to meet them on the street perhaps them I''d not know
For the years they leave us looking older and there''s no turning back the hands of time
And those I went to school with like me now long past their prime.
Many of the boys and girls I went to school with live distant from Millstreet
And we well might be strangers now if by chance we did meet
In my mental pictures of them they have not aged a day
But reality is different and 'tis always been that way.
Many of the boys and girls I went to school with in Millstreet our Home -town
Have left that green old countryside where Finnow babbles down
For to join with the great Blackwater on it''s journey to the sea
Still their innocence and youthfulness will always be with me.
The changes keep on happening and nothing seems to last
Still we cling on to our memories and we can''t deny our past
And though we may now be strangers were we to meet again
The boys and girls I went to school with young in my thoughts remain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Half Blooded Brothers
You my blood half or full were brothers, regardless of what you do to each other, you my brother half or full, .
We keep each other good, you my brother half or full. We take care of each other, because we brothers half or full.
Imma stop trippin, it'll take a while, because im use to bullshittin and prickin, but you my brother half or full.
Stick together we will stay alive, all the bullshit I said, I've been a asshole, shit who hasn't, but you my brother half or full and I guess that's what family does.
Arguments and verbal brutality towards one another is what we do, because we will always be brothers half or full. Blood half or full, it doesn't matter, because we are brothers till the end of time, your my brother half or full.
poem by Arthur V. Miller III
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Boys Are Back In Town
Guess who just got back today
Them wildout boys, that'd been away
Haven't changed, had much to say
But man I still think them cats are great
They were asking if you were around
How you was, where you could be found
Told them you were living downtown
Driving all the old men crazy
The Boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I Said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
You know that chic who used to dance a lot?
Every night she'd be on the floor, shaken what she got
Man when I tell you she was cool she was red hot
I mean she was steamin'
And that time over at Johnny's place
When this chic got up and slapped Johnny's face
Man we just fell about the place
What that chic don't wanna know forget 'er
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(I said) The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
Spread the word around
Guess who's back in town
You spread the word around
Friday night they'll be dressed to kill
Down at Dino's bar and grill
The drinks will flow and blood would spill
If the boys wanna fight you better let 'em
That kid rocks down at the corner blasting out my favourite song
The nights are getting warmer and won't be long
Wont be long till the summer comes
Now that the boys are here again
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
The boys are back in town (the boys are back in town)
(Spread the word around)
The boys are back in town (The boys are back in town)
(The boys are back, the boys are back)
The boys are back in town again
They're hanging out at Dino's
The boys are back in town again
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming
While you were out...
The message says
You left a number
And I tried to call
But they wrote it down
In a perfect spanish scrawl
In a perfect spanish scrawl
Yet again
Im missing you
King size bed
(in a) hotel someplace
I hear your name
I see your face
I see your face
(the) back street dolls
And the side door johnnies
The wide eyed boys with their bags full of
Money
Back in the alley
Going bang to the wall
Tied to the tail
Of a midnight crawl
Heaven wouldnt be
So high I know
If the times gone by
Hadnt been so low
The best laid plans
Come apart at the seams
And shatter all my dreams
Sometimes I feel like...
Screaming
Close my eyes
Its times like this
My head goes down
And the only thing I know
Is the name of this town
Is the name of this town
Yet again
Im missing you
Wont be long
O coming home
Until that distant time
Ill be moving on
Ill be moving on
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those That I Went To School With
Some of them with the departed and the others growing old and gray
Those that I went to school with in the long gone yesterday
From the boys and girls I went to school with many years before I reached my prime
I am separated by distance and by long years of time.
Some of them live far distant from Hibernia's windswept shore
And from the Town in View of Clara hill overlooking Claramore
And some of them remained in Duhallow married and there raised their family
And some of them remained unattached single and fancy free.
Most of those I went to school with I have not seen for years
And for the past and for what has been I've shed nostalgic tears
Like every other migrant for the past forever gone
But the present is what matters and we keep on keeping on.
Of those I went to school with good memories I retain
Though most of them I realize I will never meet again
We've gone our separate ways in life but memories of them I do recall
And happy memories of what was the best memories of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Buried Man
A half moon at its highest point.
His first winter at the graveyard; the grey sky falls into
bits of ice: he may envy the lights of the rings of houses.
Strangers now carry parts of his life; nothing stopped, no place
unfilled, affection diluted by absence as
the darkness waters the night.
Buses crawl round the empty streets.
From a distant bar the sound of glasses and laughter,
warmth.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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To Hell Or Havana
Hurry up McGillacuddy, you’ll soon be on your way.
No more you’ll hunt the pheasants with a shotgun by the bay,
No more you’ll watch the farmers cutting turf down by the bogs,
Or sheep up on the mountains being herded by the dogs.
You’ll seldom hear the pipes again or watch the colleens dance.
You’ll join the long tradition; no there’s not a single chance,
That there’s work for you in Ireland; the economy is dead.
It’s nineteen fifty four my boy; too many mouths to be fed
Hurry up McGillacuddy show them that you’re keen,
Get on that dock and board that ship you’re almost seventeen.
Don’t show them that your heart is broke or that you want to cry,
You’re proud to be an Irishman so hold your head up high.
This ship is packed with emigrants from England, Scotland, Wales.
They’re singing blimey British songs and telling taller tales.
They say you’ve got a brogue my friend and that you’re young and green,
Your patriotic pride is hurt when you’re almost seventeen.
Hurry up McGillacuddy you’re a stranger on your own.
The loneliness you’ve come to know hurts right down to the bone.
You’ll never fish the Fergus or walk Rinanna hunting hare.
These strangers here don’t know your world nor do they even care.
That place you knew just the other day; it’s gone forever now.
Was it all just an illusion - another world somehow?
Where are those voices that you heard - the choir in the church?
When you had all the answers and no god-forsaken search.
Hurry up McGillacuddy forget all you have done.
Canadian Immigration waits at Pier twenty-one.
They’ll process you in a minute flat and send you on your way.
You’re one of a thousand immigrants came to Halifax today.
The train is long and crowded too; no time for much emotion,
Past names like Shibinacadie it glides in locomotion.
Trapped days and nights in a carriage tight with your loneliness and pride,
You have to endure this steady strain and take it in your stride.
Hurry up McGillacuddy you’re going to shovel shit,
On a farm near Burlington; it wont hurt your pride a bit.
Three milk machines and a washcloth rag with forty Holstein cows,
In a barn big as a cathedral, some goats, some pigs, some sows.
And when you’re done with milking and feeding all that pork,
There’s a meadow with bales of hay as big as County Cork.
These farmers are a dour lot with harrows hoes and ploughs,
They toss those bales of hay all day and then milk forty cows.
Hurry up McGillacuddy, time to change career,
Your pay is nearly nothing; this slavery austere,
And the loneliness that lingers and haunts you day and night,
On a vast expanse of farm where you have no birthright.
You’re off to join the navy and you’re going back to sea,
But first to Cornwallis where you dare not disagree.
It’s yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir and running all around.
And when you’re finished marching you better go pipe down.
Hurry up McGillacuddy you’re on a navy ship,
And when you’re old enough, they’ll give you lots of rum to sip.
You’re an able seaman signalman; read those flags and flashing lights.
You’re off to the Caribbean and maybe see some sights.
It was midnight in Havana when Batista ruled the day,
And Castro ruled the hills but you had to spend your pay.
That girl with hair as black as coal, she lured you into sin,
Did you go to confession yet; how long has it been?
poem by James Bredin
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Crosstown Traffic
You jump in front of my car when you,
You know all the time that
Ninty miles an hour, girl, is the speed I drive
You tell me it's alright, you don't mind a little pain
You say you just want me to take you for a ride
You're just like crosstown traffic
So hard to get through to you
Crosstown traffic
I don't need to run over you
Crosstown traffic
All you do is slow me down
And I'm tryin' to get on the other side of town
I'm not the only soul who's accused of hit and run
Tire tracks all across your back
I can see you had your fun
But darlin' can't you see my signals turn from green to red
And with you I can see a traffic jam straight up ahead
You're just like crosstown traffic
So hard to get through to you
Crosstown traffic
I don't need to run over you
Crosstown traffic
All you do is slow me down
And I got better things on the other side of town
song performed by by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A bullock cart from Malacca
Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
every time
after a heavy downpour
You can no longer smell the tar
on a hot burning day
The road was too old
even the town council named it
the road to cemetery
A rural town
occupied by
Malay farmers,
rubber tapers
and pensioners
living in kampong
An enormous green paddy field
spreaded in the middle,
next to the road
Sandwiched by villager’s
Meranti wooden Atap houses.
To get to the town
walk your way
cycling
don’t miss the bus
or you have to wait
for another hour to get one
(you can take a pirate taxis that operate in odd hours)
Small streams crossed
at the center of the rice fields
The streams that supplied enough
fresh water fishes
for the villagers to consume
Vegetables are grown
like mushrooms
covering most of front and backyards
Fruits farm aplenty and became
local delights
whenever the season comes
Every house had their well,
as deep as 10 meter
with cold fresh water
being channeled from the nearby hills
The vast green land
were also scattered
with cows, goats, sheeps and buffalos
owned by the villagers.
In the evening
images of small kids
riding on buffalo's back
on the way to their homes
is a typical scene,
which needs to be captured
on films
for nostalgic reasons.
In the misty morning
where dawn had just breakout
villagers throwing
dried corns,
rice to the grounds
hungry poultry
feeds their way through.
School going kids
walked 3 miles to school,
cutting through plantations,
paddy field
for the shorten route.
The sound of azan
(calls for prayers five times a day required by Muslims)
Echoed from the surau and mosque,
could be heard across the village.
To own a vehicle is luxury
Bullock cart (wagon pulled by cows)
Was used in redundant
ferrying firewood,
rice sacks,
for shipment
to the town
sometimes ferrying villagers
to attend weddings
in the neighborhood
or just a bunch of cheerful kids
who like to have a ride
around the kampong.
I remembered
I was having a great time
taking a ride on this bullock cart
owned by grandfather,
going to town
whenever I paid him a visit.
I was 8 years old
Riding the time of my life
Befriended the bulls
Bonded
And sacred
Well, no matter how far I traveled
Having to live in big cities
Like London and New York,
The reminiscent of being part of kampong’s folk
riding the Bullock Cart
will still and forever (which I hope)
stayed remains in my mind
Thanks folks
for the memories.
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Dear Deborah,
They tell me that your heart
has been found in Iowa,
pumping along Interstate 35.
Do you want it back?
When the cold comes on
this fast, it's Iowa again--
where pollen disperses
evenly on the dented Fords,
where white houses sag
by the town's corn silos,
where people in the houses
sicken on corn dust.
Auctions sell entire farms.
It's not the auctions that's upsetting
but what they sell, the ragged towel
or the armless doll, for a dollar.
I hear they've found
an eye of yours in Osceola
calling out to your mouth in Davis City.
That mouth of yours is in the bar,
the only place left in town,
slow dancing and smoking.
It's no wonder you look so pale.
Ever wish you'd done more
with your thirty years?
Seeing you last week I wonder
if you crave that sky
filled with the milky way
or the sight of Amish girls in blue
at sunset against wheat-colored prairie grass.
Here, the trees are full of gossip.
They're waiting to see what you'll do next.
poem by Deborah Ager
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Strangers in Time
I'll ever remember the day she left
In a storm, I was so unkind,
I'd hurled the dinner right over her head
At the wall, and it blew her mind!
‘That's it! ' she muttered, and grabbed her bag
Went sailing out of the door,
With never a backward glance at me
Or our lives, forever more!
I sat for a week, just waited, thinking
Soon she'll be coming home,
Sat in the dark and hated, loved,
Then thought I'd better atone,
So I took to the streets, her mother's house
But of her, there wasn't a trace,
I tried her sister and brother's homes
And they slammed the door in my face.
Louise had walked right out of my life
And she wouldn't be coming back,
My world collapsed in a fit of tears
But I had to accept the fact,
I walked unthinking into the road,
Was hit by the local bus,
I vaguely remember the ambulance bell
And waking up in a truss.
There was something odd in that hospital,
I couldn't quite pin it down,
The ward was the long, old-fashioned sort
In a seedy part of town,
I noticed the nurse's uniforms
Were odd, like they used to wear
Back in the fifties, as a kid
I'd had tonsillitis there.
There was more than plenty of time to think
And I went back through my life,
Went back to every decision I'd made
Right up to losing my wife,
If I'd just done this, or just said that
I'd have taken a different tack,
So many ways I'd mishandled things
With no chance of going back.
And there, behind each second of time
Was a choice that we'd have to make,
Two paths had always been open to us
What path did the other path take?
Could there be a parallel universe
Where the other half of me,
Had made those different decisions,
Was alive, but happy and free?
It took three months for my wounds to heal
Then I found myself in the street,
It wasn't the town I remembered, though,
It had changed, perceptively,
And I was feeling much younger
So much fitter than before,
A glimpse of my face in a mirror, caught
And shocked me to the core!
I went to the university
And there I saw Louise,
Just as I'd seen her years before
And she waved and smiled at me,
Or I thought she did, but she passed me by
Went up to another man,
Kissed him there in the quad, and then
Walked off with him, hand in hand.
I was back in a parallel universe
Before she'd become my wife,
And now I remembered, Andy Cole
Had caused me a lot of strife,
We'd both gone after the same Louise
In the end, she'd chosen me,
But not before he had done with her,
Walked off, and set her free.
I followed them at a distance to
The place where they shared a flat,
I noticed she wore a wedding ring
And I thought that that was that!
I'd come too late in this scheme of things
That had taken another line,
I walked by her, but she knew me not,
We were simply strangers in time.
Then suddenly I was back at home
And closing the old front door,
I could smell Louise's cooking, it
Was a dish I'd come to abhor,
I took my place at the table and
She handed me the plate,
I said, ‘It smells delicious, dear! '
I'm the master of my fate!
7 October 2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Twenty Years Ago
It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surfing With A Spoon
Well you knew from the start
That a one way loving wouldnt last
You think Im moving slowly girl
I tell you, youre moving way too fast
Working in the city from 9 to 5
Traffic on the highway gonna blow my mind
Surfing with a spoon all the rest of the time
Oh yeah, all the rest of time
You better find your way without me
cause Im heading for the coast in june
Dont talk about me when Im gone
You know I couldnt leave too soon
Working...
Im back in town, youre still around
I guess Ill have to stay away
Im going up north where the weathers fine
And Im living it from day to day
Working...
(hirst/moginie/rotsey/garrett)
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Small Town
Love going for walks around town
A small town a holler from the big city
The many old building lining the main street
Which by the way isn't main street that's a block away
From the small library to the high school a jot to get to
The sidewalks resemble the old boardwalks from yesteryear
The shops vary as the street winds to the highway
The country air blows thru the street full of manure
Good ole air, they say around here
The small diner with the local farmers dwell at
Talking of this year's events from farming to politics
The ladies at the sew shop talking gossip
It's amazing how time don't change as years pass
Every year the town picnic to the 4th July jamboree
To the harvest dance and everything in between
Small town people living the old time ways
Wishing every town was as good as it
Walking thru saying hey to neighbors all around
Can make everyday a good day
Seeing people in the park enjoying the kids play
The banner welcoming you to our small town
Small town America, loving it, living it
poem by Michael Peterson
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Graduation
And so we talked all night about the rest of our lives
Where we're gonna be when we turn 25
I keep thinking times will never change
Keep on thinking things will always be the same
But when we leave this year we won't be coming back
No more hanging out cause we're on a different track
And if you got something that you need to say
You better say it right now cause you don't have another day
Cause we're moving on and we can't slow down
These memories are playing like a film without sound
And i keep thinking of that night in june
I didn't know much of love
But it came too soon and there was me and you
And then we got real blue
Stay at home talking on the telephone
We'd get so excited, we'd get so scared
Laughing at our selves thinking life's not fair
And this is how it feels
1:
As we go on, we remember
All the times we had together
And as our lives change, come whatever
We will still be, friends forever
So if we get the big jobs and we make the big money
When we look back now, will our jokes still be funny?
Will we still remember everything we learned in school?
Still be trying to break every single rule
Will little brainy bobby be the stockbroker man?
Can heather find a job that won't interfere with her tan?
I keep, i keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
And this is how it feels
Repeat 1
La, la, la, la; yeah, yeah, yeah
La, la, la, la, we will still be friends forever
Will we think about tomorrow like we think about now?
Can we survive it out there? can we make it somehow?
I guess i thought that this would never end
And suddenly it's like we're women and men
Will the past be a shadow that will follow us round?
Will these memories fade when i leave this town
I keep, i keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
Repeat 1 x3
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Graduation [Friends Forever]
And so we talked all night about the rest of our lives
Where we're gonna be when we turn 25
I keep thinking times will never change
Keep on thinking things will always be the same
But when we leave this year we won't be coming back
No more hanging out cause we're on a different track
And if you got something that you need to say
You better say it right now cause you don't have another day
Cause we're moving on and we can't slow down
These memories are playing like a film without sound
And I keep thinking of that night in June
I didn't know much of love
But it came too soon and there was me and you
And then we got real cool
Stay at home talking on the telephone with me
We'd get so excited, we'd get so scared
Laughing at our selves thinking life's not fair
And this is how it feels
1:
As we go on, we remember
All the times we had together
And as our lives change, come whatever
We will still be, friends forever
So if we get the big jobs
And we make the big money
When we look back now
Will our jokes still be funny?
Will we still remember everything we learned in school?
Still be trying to break every single rule
Will little brainy Bobby be the stockbroker man?
Can Heather find a job that won't interfere with her tan?
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
And this is how it feels
Repeat 1
La, la, la, la; yeah, yeah, yeah
La, la, la, la, we will still be friends forever
Will we think about tomorrow like we think about now?
Can we survive it out there?
Can we make it somehow?
I guess I thought that this would never end
And suddenly it's like we're women and men
Will the past be a shadow that will follow us 'round?
Will these memories fade when I leave this town
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly
Repeat 1 x3
song performed by by Vitamin C
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Ground of My Childhood Memoir
Sweet Ground of my childhood memoir
I dwelled for so many years
And as mum carried me to her breast
Her hum made the afternoon asleep
I witness a town of children
As they run along the streets
And hide in bushes and houses
And during merry times and Christmas Eve
They serenade the houses of the rich and poor
Oh little children of that day
Had walked the long long road
We played with time to and fro the beauty of our town
The frogs in the lilies as they kokak
We come and pick their pinkish cloudy eggs
Poor papa frog
We are a monster in your house!
Excuse as even once
We leaved the field with many little marks
As we rush in time before the sunset die
At times when Rain will come
We are the children of papa frog!
That longed to play outside.
Mama whips us for our little Joy
Because we never understand
Never will I forget
The Good old days
When the hum of that day is a sweet yesterday!
poem by Agnes Quirante
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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