tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post4450856199862336900..comments2023-09-13T03:10:36.690-07:00Comments on Robin's Nest: The clock ticked onOld Egghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14727444489103758018noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-38556593923815418722015-10-06T08:07:47.365-07:002015-10-06T08:07:47.365-07:00Nice memory, but we're able to turn growing ol...Nice memory, but we're able to turn growing older in new adventure and experience, just as we done in young years....humbirdhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00106270909713851811noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-51897800205849598052015-10-05T21:57:38.474-07:002015-10-05T21:57:38.474-07:00What a lovely, if homesick, recreation of childhoo...What a lovely, if homesick, recreation of childhood!Rosemary Nissen-Wadehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05913841031559499568noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-71287564424613390362015-10-05T05:43:36.717-07:002015-10-05T05:43:36.717-07:00Yes the old and young in memory. Yes the old and young in memory. Gen Giggles https://www.blogger.com/profile/13744815023509063722noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-87835691900207169762015-10-05T00:52:00.297-07:002015-10-05T00:52:00.297-07:00Beautifully painted...a picture of memories and no...Beautifully painted...a picture of memories and nostalgiaAditihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07881690136782545422noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-66401720396646013942015-10-04T22:23:30.130-07:002015-10-04T22:23:30.130-07:00Memories of youth...love revisiting them. Memories of youth...love revisiting them. Susie Clevengerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09239990133754328967noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-84255303410547066962015-10-04T19:05:09.565-07:002015-10-04T19:05:09.565-07:00Sometimes youthful memories carry with us to help ...Sometimes youthful memories carry with us to help make the journey easier on the road ahead..it is nice to visit those places of heart.Truedessahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09079953417572207613noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-82799845149467716462015-10-04T17:13:36.446-07:002015-10-04T17:13:36.446-07:00Your last line keeps repeating in my head, as I st...Your last line keeps repeating in my head, as I struggle with arthritis pain and other gifts of age. You have good memories of your place of birth and write about it so tenderly. I enjoyed reading this.Myrna R.https://www.blogger.com/profile/15088915165678737118noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-77239972573707572492015-10-04T17:11:15.059-07:002015-10-04T17:11:15.059-07:00How great was it when young. How life had the fine...How great was it when young. How life had the fine moments and changed with age. How one yearned again for the freedom when really aged! Reality beats them all!<br /><br />Hankkaykualahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03240206222973305395noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-71760518323700538382015-10-04T15:59:09.145-07:002015-10-04T15:59:09.145-07:00I have left the town of my birth - also. All thos...I have left the town of my birth - also. All those memories! I think it is the lack of those little touchstones: a particular house, a bridge, a fountain - that one doesn't have, when one moves away (to conjure forth those youthful days) ... that are missed, so much. A beautiful write! Wendy Bourkehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09475940407969993348noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-27526264875872427702015-10-04T15:49:51.457-07:002015-10-04T15:49:51.457-07:00the ending line was straightforward and honest. a...the ending line was straightforward and honest. a serious sentiment. .Nicholas https://www.blogger.com/profile/05252355730748268069noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-63793610586101150742015-10-04T15:30:29.965-07:002015-10-04T15:30:29.965-07:00I love how your poem nods to the cycles of our lif...I love how your poem nods to the cycles of our life and how we move on and eventually return in what we need. Not without that twinge of nostalgia, that helps to drive us on...claireylovehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16691439928758477628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-30576203316253150962015-10-04T13:39:25.974-07:002015-10-04T13:39:25.974-07:00Oh this was wonderful Robin and I laughed as I rea...Oh this was wonderful Robin and I laughed as I reached the end with a wide grin...for I too left the place of my birth, but would gladly go back to play where I grew up! Seems we are both thinking of play today....Donna@LivingFromHappinesshttp://www.livingfromhappiness.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-32767792425095548542015-10-04T12:10:34.866-07:002015-10-04T12:10:34.866-07:00Luv the nostalgia of youth. In every grown person,...Luv the nostalgia of youth. In every grown person, there this this tug, if there is happiness in those past day<br /><br />Have a nice Sunday<br /><br />Much love...Gillena Coxhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09191865405561549074noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-46217434341934636162015-10-04T11:47:47.379-07:002015-10-04T11:47:47.379-07:00With you all the way on this - so very evocative -...With you all the way on this - so very evocative - I'd be back there with you too, in flash - given the chance... With Best Wishes Scott www.scotthastie.comscotthastiepoethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17266153714529613752noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-47809175927481985552015-10-04T11:19:26.672-07:002015-10-04T11:19:26.672-07:00These memories are sweet. Watching aging with my p...These memories are sweet. Watching aging with my parents, and feeling your pain. A lovely poem. Sorry having technical difficulties. My poem is at tsdwords.WordPress.comSaravhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10289212188617046645noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-47744525238915294792015-10-04T11:11:08.713-07:002015-10-04T11:11:08.713-07:00I too left my home and travelled and am now finall...I too left my home and travelled and am now finally in place that is my home. Not the home of my youth but the home of my heart. And growing older is definitely not for wimps! I may grow older but I refuse to grow up! Spencer is Kanzensakuratonispencerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04200564195675794747noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-25898570251787780882015-10-04T09:34:13.356-07:002015-10-04T09:34:13.356-07:00I love the happy looking back, then the poignant c...I love the happy looking back, then the poignant contrast of the older narrator. How this poem resonates with me. Now all that swift running reduced to a hobble (in my case) Sigh. I do love the way the hay is "stooked" in the photo - here they bale them in rectangles - or else in huge rolled batches wrapped in plastic for winter.Sherry Blue Skyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10769154286598233146noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-42749207892538872832015-10-04T08:20:39.716-07:002015-10-04T08:20:39.716-07:00Oh, my dear sir, how your poem brings to mind my b...Oh, my dear sir, how your poem brings to mind my beloved island, the sting of every skinned knee that the child me minded to little because we were unstoppable... The body grows older much faster than the mind, and as the fall speaks of winter, my body aches feel ancient. Your words sing to me today... ♥ Magaly Guerrerohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18295455026184103230noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-11273584877510584452015-10-04T06:47:10.473-07:002015-10-04T06:47:10.473-07:00An estrangement grows when you go somewhere new an...An estrangement grows when you go somewhere new and have to re-craft your identity, but then, change is inevitable, Robin.<br />Beautiful poem. The memories are an integral part of you –- you didn’t choose them, they chose you, like family. :) Lovely....Panchalihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08832164041967778122noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-88873283796985683232015-10-04T06:17:28.889-07:002015-10-04T06:17:28.889-07:00Beautiful. I loved the last para especially. Beautiful. I loved the last para especially. Purba chakrabortyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10726789340791239305noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-88530676268548672062015-10-04T06:16:47.771-07:002015-10-04T06:16:47.771-07:00At least one can return to innocent play in memory...At least one can return to innocent play in memory! I'm told aging can take us back too, but I guess I'm not old enough to feel that yet. Oh--about your comment on "Blood"--I don't believe in your wickedness because I read your poetry!Susanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05723639294340760325noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-39287276204689875492015-10-04T05:03:42.499-07:002015-10-04T05:03:42.499-07:00Oh yes, sometimes one wishes one could go back to ...Oh yes, sometimes one wishes one could go back to those former places and former times again! I enjoyed the nostalgia here....but doubt I would like to live through the 'growing up' years a second time.Maryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07366010389846904663noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-51097556820884549102015-10-04T02:48:16.578-07:002015-10-04T02:48:16.578-07:00The seasons changed and I did too
With time our b...The seasons changed and I did too<br /><br />With time our bodies..train of thought and priorities tend to change.. we often reflect back on the past..assuming that it was better than the present. Sanaa Rizvihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06681404650477409830noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-74359865388204807032015-10-04T02:43:14.847-07:002015-10-04T02:43:14.847-07:00Yes, it is. I left the place of my birth, but then...Yes, it is. I left the place of my birth, but then spent years finding my way back. And things changed you know. It was not the same, but it still felt warm enough to be glad I was home.Xhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09037544390731217891noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7642588922402729816.post-22813467428503239332015-10-04T02:25:43.864-07:002015-10-04T02:25:43.864-07:00love the sylvan setting you've sketched...alas...love the sylvan setting you've sketched...alas, this realm of dream is lost forever...a beautiful poem...Sumana Royhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17333363799083094084noreply@blogger.com