Once to the sky of my childhood
I blew countless soap bubbles, and
Looked up, murmuring some words
Old I will be, I might giggle like a kid
Once upon a time there was a little child
She made wishes in the bubbles … …
Wonderful poem, I think we grow up far to fast these days and have enough time to enjoy our youth.
On the3rd stanza, the child bring up memories to you. Reminding yourself about early times.
Made me remember my childhood. Even when I blow bubbles now, It lacks the excitement it once possessed. It was an age where we found HappuHapp in anything and everything
And she will always be in there! Nice brief image presented to convey the beautiful ephemeral nature of our childhoods. Thanks for sharing your poem.
'Once to the sky of my childhood I blew countless soap bubbles, ' beautiful memories, I once loved doing this also, blowing bubbles; I did not know I should have also made wishes in bubbles rising up in liquid bubbles bursting in beautiful streams of bubbles :)
Like bubbles we blow many things in our childhood and by the time we reaches adolescence we reailses that everything we wished will never come true yet we keep our hopes intact and faith perfect to grow further and become wise and laugh at our wishes. A thought provoking poem..
what else can be such sweet memories but of childhood? we all must walk back to childhood NO? Thank you for sharing Poet! ! ! 10+++! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In a flash I saw the scene outdoors filled with delicate bubbles and the child giggling because when they popped against her face, she got a slight cold wet sensation. Suddenly your verbal image became a visual image in my mind's eye. // There is another flash that surprised me: when you suddenly say, old I will be, there's such finality to that, such a cleared-eyed view of aging, and you are SO FAR from being old (!) and from that perspective on aging you make a leap through time and come back again, because you are midway between the child you were and the woman you will become. Well, maybe past the midway point, but you can touch the past through memory and the future through projection, you are in control. Your poem does allow a simplistic view of childhood. I already seeing mine: in the front porch, my parents reading the news, my sister playing with our pug dog and me, day-dreaming just like you!
Thank you Daniel for your prose-like comment.I appreciated as ever.