Just Another Rhyme

 

I remember when wishes lived on a popsicle stick,

and laughter rode in circles on a merry-go-round,

goodnight kisses spurred sweet dreams on their way,

and tomorrows were all shaped like yesterdays.

 

where cares blew away with the puff of a breeze,

when love was holding hands to say a prayer,

pain was just a band-aid and some iodine,

it only hurt till everyone knew, then it’d be just fine.

 

peaceful was hot chocolate and a bedtime story,

as snowflakes traded places with the stars,

life was so much easier way back when,

and I’ll treasure these memories to the very end,

 

till they are no more than a fine morning’s mist,

forgotten in the sunset of too long a day,

yet locked there forever in an old man’s tear,

because somewhere inside the little boy still lives there.


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Starward's picture

This is both one of the

This is both one of the finest poems I have ever read (and I have been reading poetry since Spring, 1973), and one of the finest poems on all of postpoems.  The treasures of memories, and their peaceful and joyful meanings, are both preserved and presented in the magnificence of your skilled language's grandeur.  Any Poet would be very pleased with, and very proud of, this kind of poem; just as any reader should be very pleased by the beauty and effect of this poem, and very proud to be part of the postpoems community where such a poem can happen right before our eyes, as our souls our filled with wonder in response to your words.  I apologize if I sound too superlative, too gushy, but I am simply responding, honestly, to one of the most beautiful and effective poems that I have ever read.


Starward

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