In the distant past
O to be a child again
(Not the milky stage!)
Changing shape each year
Never getting tired playing
Sunshine or in rain
Feet squishing mud
Knocking on Dad's pumpkin
Growing in garden
Streets almost empty
Seeing sheep fly in clouds
Finding a bird's nest
First ride in a car
Cutting myself with a penknife
Scratching name in bricks
Too busy to write
In diary when outside called
Coming home dirty
Hoping for a theme
That would suit boys not just girls
Writing an essay
Looking at sweet Sue
Who smiled at me in class
She had long blonde plaits
Wish I could go back
Remembering what shaped me
Before I grew up
Image found at www.skoolatoz.nsw.edu.au
"Never getting tired playing / Sunshine or in rain" an everlasting craving...love this thirst for innocent days...
ReplyDeleteSadly, we all wish that. But none of us can go back either. Blonde plaits fade.
ReplyDeleteWish I could go back
ReplyDeleteRemembering what shaped me
Before I grew up.. that's poignant and exactly what I feel sometimes.
Oh to be a child again :D such a wonderful thought and poem ❤💜
ReplyDeleteI think perhaps you just did go back in a way - the better sides of being young are a good memory.. and i'm very glad you've got lots of adventures and themes to tell us about too
ReplyDeleteOne craves for the innocence of the good old days but they never come!
ReplyDeleteHank
It'a not just the things we gain by growing up (except from weight) but the prize we pay in childhood lost.
ReplyDeleteYes, those idyllic days – or so they seem, in memory. At least we have the memories!
ReplyDeleteIndeed, looking back at those innocent childhood days - one wonders where the time went. Love the reminiscence here, Robin, and the yearning for those simpler days.
ReplyDeleteI love this. :)
ReplyDeleteThis took me back........the days of play that passed so slowly, all the time in the world......
ReplyDeleteYes. And such detail! What I like about these memory poems is that when inside them, we ARE back then. I'm smiling.
ReplyDeleteEvoked good old memories, really liked your final stanza. I did enjoy this poem.
ReplyDeleteWish we could all reclaim at least a little of tha free innocence of childhood. Nice that you have such good memories. I think we should all consider visit that child within us from time to time and play.
ReplyDeleteTo be a child...so delightful.
ReplyDeleteSuch a nostalgic call, Robin... There are days, when I echo your poem.
ReplyDeleteThankfully, we - mostly - remember childhood, fondly ...though, I do recall some cruel life lessons along the way. A wonderful capture, Robin.
ReplyDeleteThis is interesting, wishing to return to the past, to the time you were a boy, and yet as you said, "We cling to the past," it is what is in all those bags we insist on dragging through the streets. It is waht makes us who we are.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely.You were a nice little boy I think...:)
ReplyDeletegood to look back on that shape shifting innocence
ReplyDeleteNice one Robin
much love...
wow, such sweet childhood memories! we can only look back fondly upon them now.
ReplyDeletei can remember the "coming home dirty" part. always happening! :)