A poem about a childhood memoir and how great those days were without worrying anything.
Memories of My Childhood GamesI remember those days during my childhood,
We'd play many games in the meadows and woods.
But when time was up and my father started to whistle,
I'd rustle home or my mother would grumble louder than our kettle.
When the sun was up and the day was hot,
My friends and I would rush to our spot.
Some children played with the marbles, but I preferred the top.
'Cause I loved to keep it turning with the hope that it wouldn't stop.
Then came the whistling wind, and it was a windy day!
"The best of the best days", my friends would always say.
With threads firmly held as we gazed at our kites,
They flew away as far as our cords could take their flights.
When the day was cool and cloudy,
It's the day we went wild and screamed loudly.
As we mounted the hill and slid down in a race,
Back and forth, and it felt like we flitted into space.
Then came the rain, and the day was cold,
We'd bathe in the rain, bare and bold.
Then we'd swim in the flood like tiny frogs.
We'd ride on the raft we made out of drifted logs.
Yet then again, when the time was up and my father started to whistle,
I'd rustle home or my mother would grumble louder than our kettle.
| I remember those days during my childhood, We'd play many games in the meadows and woods. But when time was up and my father started to whistle, I'd rustle home or my mother would grumble louder than our kettle. When the sun was up and the day was hot, My friends and I would rush to our spot. Some children played with the marbles, but I preferred the top. 'Cause I loved to keep it turning with the hope that it wouldn't stop. Then came the whistling wind, and it was a windy day! "The best of the best days", my friends would always say. With threads firmly held as we gazed at our kites, They flew away as far as our cords could take their flights. When the day was cool and cloudy, It's the day we went wild and screamed loudly. As we mounted the hill and slid down in a race, Back and forth, and it felt like we flitted into space. Then came the rain, and the day was cold, We'd bathe in the rain, bare and bold. Then we'd swim in the flood like tiny frogs. We'd ride on the raft we made out of drifted logs. Yet then again, when the time was up and my father started to whistle, I'd rustle home or my mother would grumble louder than our kettle. |
Written for "April 5 Poem--List via title" 
in "Dew Drop Inn"
Prompt: List poem w/no repetition—write a list of things where the title signals what it’s a list of (Example: My Lovers, Things I Wish I’d Said to My Father, Visible at Dusk, etc.)
22 lines | 228 words | 1,153 characters
04/05/2022
in "Dew Drop Inn" Prompt: List poem w/no repetition—write a list of things where the title signals what it’s a list of (Example: My Lovers, Things I Wish I’d Said to My Father, Visible at Dusk, etc.)
22 lines | 228 words | 1,153 characters
04/05/2022
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