Artwork by: Angie Caira (Used with kind permission)
I remember a time when life was alive
with wondrous mysteries of carefree design;
when clouds were fluffy and brilliant white
with planes soaring high and then out of sight.
Innocence of mind and a happier soul as we
played out with mates, we would fight and cajole.
Running around with abandon so free and
not a care in the world, just cries of pure glee.
Hide ‘n’ seek and footy as well, then
playing on rope swings down in the dell.
Flying a kite that you just made from sticks,
a bag and a tail, watch it dance and do tricks.
Crawling through grass trying not to be seen,
with toy gun in hand and knees now so green.
Attacking the fort built with cupboard and box,
with a rat-a-tat-tat and mud on your socks.
Building a den in the back yard with friends;
old wood and damp carpet with worn tatty ends,
an old bit of plastic is the window outside,
to watch for the enemy, “Be quiet and hide!”
Climbing way up to the top of the trees,
holding on tight as it sways in the breeze.
Falling back down with a thud and a shout,
hole in your coat, with stuffing hanging out.
Playing on swings, a roundabout and slide,
screaming and shouting with eyes open wide.
Abandoning all to the whim of the day,
“Where shall we go?” and “What shall we play?”
“What time it mister, I’m late, gotta run!”
“My tea will be cold; get a clout on the bum!”
Running through puddles down streets and dirt paths,
right up to the door we’re still having a laugh.
Quick tea and telly and then off to bed,
except on Sundays; “Get a bath, wash your head!”
A peaceful sleep, then a stretch; wide awake,
the sun is shining, I’ll go out and play.
Treasure each moment of life, in your heart,
treasure your childhood though now far apart.
Remember those days, in your darkest hours;
the sights, the sounds and colourful flowers.
The child that resides in the heart of my soul
is a child born in freedom and love to behold.
A child raised on adventure, joy and love,
we live in here together like hand in glove.
Never let go of the small child inside,
just open your heart; open it wide!
On sad lonely days, you can count all the while,
on the sweet child inside who can still make you smile.
Written by Darren Scanlon, September 2013.
Revised on 16th April 2015.
(1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)Artistic poem on Childhood Gentle thoughts about Happy Short Life* Poems
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2 Comments on "Smile"
Ah Darren I did enjoy your memories and yes your poem takes
us away from the realities of todays world.
Indeed it does. Thanks Johanna.