Hand in Hand

we walked as if unaware

through youthful days

without a care

singing songs of sunshine

and daisy days

of are you mine?

hip-high in wheat-top sways

we walked through our youthful days

…O’Prunty 8/1/2020

Old and Young

A difference between

the young and the old….

Most of the people the young loved

are still around.

Days of Youth

 

A mockingbird crooned his melody

as I sat under a blooming Lilac tree

I closed my eyes and soon drifted away

lulled by soft buzzing of the honeybees.

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Youth

-By Linda Lee Lyberg

As gloaming shadows fell

Across his threadbare sleeve

There are times better remembered

In blurred moments of rending grief.

A Fantasy of Permanent Youth

I’m racing the inevitable,
my only weapon an
optimistic fantasy
of permanent youthfulness.

The 1970s are to blame.
My generation is to blame.
We started this crap,
pretending we could play
where, before,
only teenagers and children could.

First Love

Do you remember
the very first time
you fell in love?
Staying awake
long past bedtime
on a school night

And the butterflies
you felt firing up
in your stomach
every time you
saw her eyes?

Younglings

Younglings run up and down the upstairs hallway
causing my mugs and tea cups set atop my fridge to tremble.
Momentary images race through my consciousness as I dream them
with halos of holly and twigs, crowns of leaves,
long sticks and action figures and a stuffed pony
being whirled over a little imp’s head like a helicopter. I hear

To A Young Friend

A new day rises for you, daughter,
Pushing the darkness and the mists of childhood away.
Many have stood on this same shore, you know, but
This hour is wholly fresh, is yours entire,
Awesome and terrifying.
Thrilling. Dangerous. Engaging.
Overwhelming.
“Am I up to it?” You wonder…

Do As Youth Does

We don’t know

The hell in which

Youth and laughter

Go.

We don’t care

For the life

You claim,

We need air.

Autumn the wise

 

In the woods I saw a curtain
hanging from a tree
Really quite significant
It said a lot to me
It spoke of changing seasons
standing side by side
when youth makes ways for wisdom
and Summer turns to hide

From A Distance

 

I watch, each day she’s growing
Personality overflowing
Heart so full of love, compassion
Her youth is beauty; the new fashion

~ Scars and All

Dedicated to all who have suffered the cruelty of “the bullies”

 

I watched

Recalled

Painfully remembered –

Tossing rocks

In the form of wounding words

The shy little girl sat crying

Questioning her worth

Her very existence…

~ Try, Again

You fell

Scrapped your knees

The wheels kept turning

On those sidewalk skates

As if to say, “try again”…

poetry,~ On Youth

Youth:

Our future

Our here

Our now

Instill character…

The rest will follow

In due course

O’Prunty

3/25/15

Summer’s Child II

The winter’s shadow now has passed
And Summer’s child is here
To warm our bodies and our hearts
And fill our eyes with cheer

~ I Reminisce ~

I reminisce in youthful bliss
The taste of love
That strawberry kiss

And roses without thorns

O’Prunty
2/7/15

~ Mother Said… ~

~ Mother Said… ~

The first cry of her babies
Was like poetry to her ears;
Each unique, distinct

~ The End. ~

~ The End. ~

Speak not of love and longing
Nevermore this heart to comply
Your essence was so fleeting
Now, how the years have passed by

~ Lament ~

 

Think on us no more
The flower
The beauty of youth
Has forsaken us
Left us waning
And wanting

Realize When it Happens

We might want to live lives forever fond.

There are no worrisome days, only dawned

~

reminders of the times we had much fun.

Playing roles, acting strange only just begun

A Day Like Today

I remember when
The field was cleared
A subdivision expansion

Where destruction and construction met
Fields of mud and rock
Unsupervised machinery

It was a day like today

Haiku: Adieu

Flocculent plumage –
raining flurry, soft

Prison

The same old room
I’m waking up again
Windows offer no relief
I’m edged toward the end

My skin’s a book of sorrow
Composed of empty lines
Story of a withered youth
A story of decline

-30.03.13_00:43-

Converse with a voice,
Takes me right back,
Former moment in my life,

seasons — poem

time, and the season, is ever changing…