(087) The Old Wooden Swing Poem by Risha Ahmed (12 yrs)
(087) The Old Wooden Swing
The old wooden swing
It bring back memories of the past
I always sat on it clutching the ropes tight
And watch the sky so vast
When I was small and wanted to rest
I snuggled into the swing deep
Then I sing a lullaby to myself
And in no time I fall asleep
The old swing gave our living room
A nice and elegant touch
When I was small, in my little hands
The rope of the swing I’d clutch
As I sit in the swing
Back and forth my parents pushed me
But they did it slowly when I yawn
Because they knew I was feeling sleepy
Oh, how I miss the old swing
As it’s not with me today
Right now I am watching
The garbage truck carries it far away.
Oh, I remember those baby swings...my daughter managed to get out of it, [not a good thing] and her brother, well he was just born too big. This is a wonderful poem...The kids swing sets over here now are all wood with Little club houses on top and sand box underneath, and a rope to climb. Kind of nifty. You are a good writer little lady. marci.xo [I'm speaking of the outdoor ones, not the baby ones]
That's cute, it's exactly how I was with my old childhood toys. Don't worry though, you'll get new toys and stuff. Great poem though. Keep writing: -)
Risha, ahhhh, poor old wooden swing. I remember when I was small I had a swing in our back garden. I would sit on it for hours dreaming away my day. now I'm an old man and wish I had one again so I could look up at the clouds and drift a million miles away. Thanks for awakening some lovely memories. Top marks and thanks for sharing this little Princess. David
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 12:53:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
dear angel you don't miss that lullaby...it is inborn in you..and it will last through ages..for the enjoyment of your readers like me..uncle