Posts Tagged ‘childhood (poetry)’












He rests all the winter long

Beneath an icy cap of snow

Silently he keeps watch

Over all the slumbering creatures

Burrowed beneath his sheltering thatch


Spring melt wakes his green grasses

All over his round old top

Bright colored flowers greet

Young creatures on their first days

Atop the sleepy old bluff


Summer days are greeted by sparkling rain drops

Birds bath in his tiny streams

Dancing along on their journey to the sea

Curious bees visit each flower

While the sleepy old bluff dozes


Twilight shows many curious colors

In the lavish trees, autumn has arrived

Their sweet fruit and hardy nuts

Provide a bounty for the winter burrows

And the sleepy old bluff watches over all



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The life of a bullet
Has come my way

It could have served ‘Clint’
As in make “make my day”

Or Flag draped hero
In Earth to lay

When new it glistened
Now bent and gray

Once married it’s breach
It’s life it gave

On it’s one way trip
Too short to say…

“What is my purpose?”
It cannot delay

No choice in target
Of pigeon, clay

Just a promising child
Intent on play

The life of a bullet
Took mine away

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Every now and then, you get a cookie
you are feeling chert and happy,
you just got a cookie,
right out of the blue,
Lucky You.Then you see
your cookie is not so big.
Others have cookies too,
most of which look huge.
Unhappy You.

The smartest teacher in the school
can’t make the cookies fair
A treat you need to grin and bear,
enjoy the life we’re given.
Troubles too

The options don’t compare.
Once the cookies are gone,
they’re equally nonexistent.
Cookies come and cookies go
they’re only good
when they are chewed


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Trotsky the Cat

 By JdSchooley  
I told you my teacher said I could be anything I wanted to be
You said there was no way that ‘I’ could be anything I wanted to be
I showed you my new glove I paid for with my paper route money
You had a baseball and tossed it at your sister’s cat, Trotsky
I asked if you wanted one of my paper routes
You showed me the new bike your dad gave you for not stealing
I said I could be a ball player and asked if you wanted to throw to me
You said that a glove would not make me a ball player
I said you would need more balls to back up that statement
You punched me in the nose
I bleed all over my white sneakers
You said you might want a route and rode off on your new bike
I finished my paper route and made another payment on mine
You choose me to play on your team at recess
I got left out of batting order and got stuck in right field
You took over my paper route, never paying up the over due collections
I paid the overdue collections
You said I could pound sand if I thought you would pay back the money
I said I would pound you
You punched me in the nose
I felt good about not bleeding on anything important
You said I could be anything that sounded like failure
I watched as later that night your house burned down
You had taken the batteries from the fire alarm for the light on your bike
I asked if you knew what had happened to cause the fire
You said your sister’s cat, Trotsky
I said I had sold Trotsky to the Barley brothers two hours earlier to pay for uncollected paper route fees
You said then why was a burning cat seen running into your garage
I said everyone knows the Barley brothers love to set cats on fire
Guess I failed to see that coming


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