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Literature Text
Fighting not so seldom
Peace used to come as easy
Weapons in hand,
But yours today holds a gift
Pirates, sometimes
Or treasure hunters
"Stealing for the poor",
And the dew on my brow-
What a most unusual treasure…
Giggling trees
Challenging and tempting;
Their branches our stronghold,
Do you remember?
Hay and grass,
Drums of adventure;
Our favourite scents,
Do you remember?
Soaked
Survivors of a seabattle
Laughing hearts
Drying in the sunlight,
Do you remember?
Harvested fields
Of silly, childish pleasures
I sing of summers spent to gather
And cherish all of them…
Do you remember?
Peace used to come as easy
Weapons in hand,
But yours today holds a gift
Pirates, sometimes
Or treasure hunters
"Stealing for the poor",
And the dew on my brow-
What a most unusual treasure…
Giggling trees
Challenging and tempting;
Their branches our stronghold,
Do you remember?
Hay and grass,
Drums of adventure;
Our favourite scents,
Do you remember?
Soaked
Survivors of a seabattle
Laughing hearts
Drying in the sunlight,
Do you remember?
Harvested fields
Of silly, childish pleasures
I sing of summers spent to gather
And cherish all of them…
Do you remember?
Do you remember how it was to be a child?
I sometimes feel like I need a reminder, when world (or people) tries to push its philosophy on me.
This had no punctuation, originally, but not everyone would have been able to understand its rhythm if I didn’t include it…
And lastly. Each stanza describes something which happened when I was little. I lived in a small village (which sadly has now grown into a bigger town, I am told) near to a river, corn fields, abandoned houses, and plenty of trees, though I can’t define them as a “forest”. I’d have included in here the stories which created each stanza, but I feared the final length of the Artist Comments.
Of course, though, I’ll gladly tell you if you’d like. I must admit that each is a lovely memory.
Thank you for reading.
The image is mine, taken lots of time ago during a walk near here. I thought that a swan with such a nostalgic feel to it would fit the poem.
I sometimes feel like I need a reminder, when world (or people) tries to push its philosophy on me.
This had no punctuation, originally, but not everyone would have been able to understand its rhythm if I didn’t include it…
And lastly. Each stanza describes something which happened when I was little. I lived in a small village (which sadly has now grown into a bigger town, I am told) near to a river, corn fields, abandoned houses, and plenty of trees, though I can’t define them as a “forest”. I’d have included in here the stories which created each stanza, but I feared the final length of the Artist Comments.
Of course, though, I’ll gladly tell you if you’d like. I must admit that each is a lovely memory.
Thank you for reading.
The image is mine, taken lots of time ago during a walk near here. I thought that a swan with such a nostalgic feel to it would fit the poem.
© 2010 - 2024 TheMaidenInBlack
Comments44
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Childhood memories... one of the most beautiful things to remember! you did a great job making this into a poem because it is already a hard idea to write about.