April Poetry Competition – Nostalgia

Well, after climbing back on my chair this morning I see that it is down to me to open the next Poetry competition.

Me at 10

Last week I was in the UK visiting my parents (both 90 this year) and my daughter and grandchildren.
I spent the mornings with my parents. As is usual with older folk our time was spent mainly reminiscing.
But most afternoons and evenings were spent playing with the grandchildren. We introduced the three younger ones (8, 7 and 7) to playing cards. Sitting playing the same games with them that I played with my parents fifty years ago filled me with many fond memories. It was great to see, in these modern times, that they all neglected their tablets (yep, computer tablets at 7) to play old-fashioned card games.
So, I flew back on Friday full of Nostalgia, but in a positive sense.


Therefore I propose a poem about the past, almost the direct opposite of March’s competition which was new dawn, new beginnings. It can be anything related to homesickness, longing for lost ones, or just happy memories.

Closing Date: 27th April 2014.

Author: gazoopi

After finally leaving the world of the black suit and tie, briefcase and laptop, hotel rooms and airports, and donning sandals, jeans and a flat cap, I have entered a new world of creative writing. If, through my written work, I can create a smile, cause a tear to fall or stimulate an LOL from my readers, I will be a winner!

9 thoughts on “April Poetry Competition – Nostalgia”

  1. In the past, so long ago
    I used to chase the girlies
    I tempted them with Mars Bars
    And giant Curiy Wurlys

    I then grew up a bit and
    Found I had more money
    I tempted them with such words as
    “Your lips, they taste of honey.”

    Eventually I had my wicked way
    And had a lot of fun
    But now I just look on
    And save myself a ton!

    Pretty pathetic, but all I can come up with in the midst of spring cleaning!

  2. Sonnet about love

    It misses a beat, this same once-fickle heart
    That she seized for herself with a devilish glance.
    Were her smiles meant for me? Weren’t those eyes just a part
    Of her farcical play making mock of romance?
    Yes, she’d like me to walk to her bus that soft night.
    (I’d have walked to the moon, had she asked me.) And yes,
    She’d be coming again. (Had my ears served me right?)
    She’d been hoping I’d ask! Did I like her new dress?
    She skipped lightly on board with a laugh and a wave
    That can still interrupt my mundane daily round.
    But the memories fade. What sweet torture to crave
    For a minute’s reprise of those sights and those sounds!
    And through pleasure and pain down the years she’ll appear,
    As though we’d just planned our next meeting this year!

  3. Six years old

    Shiny new sandals, the bike from the shed,
    Bright sunshine for ever, lying wakeful in bed.
    A trip to the seaside, the donkeys, toy boats,
    Steam trains, a suitcase, sand castles with moats.
    Picnics with cousins, Burton Dasset’s wild hills,
    And cricket for ev’ryone, the tumbles, the thrills.

  4. HI Gaz, One which I wrote ages ago which sort of fits the bill:

    Colour it Grey

    Grey pale thoughts of senses dulled
    Lost hints of colour, long time past
    Memories tarnished by loss and age
    Glow less now on yellowed page

    Life lived once and coloured gold
    Youth and beauty glowing warm
    Black faded now; but no less true
    For having lost its vibrant hue

    Crisp autumn leaves and hints of frost.
    Brown fades and senses lose their power
    As light has faded emotions still
    The grey has come and endless chill

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