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you may offer your writing to any prompt anytime.
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Thursday, February 19, 2009

Childhood

Photo by Colleen
Visit her wonderful blog Fingers and Paws
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Suggested prompt...
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The joy of childhood.
Use this in any creative way you are inspired.



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Ode to Childhood

Wiping eyes, sleepless nights
A newborn takes his toll
Cherub grows big, now takes flight
A toddler's mirth is born.

Kid yoga, preschool years all done
And now you're really big
Scorecards full of kid games won
Jumping on just one leg.

Growing learning pre-teen years
Now you know everything
Fights with girls and boys and tears
I don't know anything.

Taller than me, looking down
I nearly recognize myself
Raucous laughter, deep deep frown
Eat life up, my elf.

Flash forward in time from now
Unearthing bright memories in advance
Laugh through judgement, pain and vow
To always take that chance.

~ CDB


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13 comments:

CDB said...

Ode to Childhood

Wiping eyes, sleepless nights
A newborn takes his toll
Cherub grows big, now takes flight
A toddler's mirth is born.

Kid yoga, preschool years all done
And now you're really big
Scorecards full of kid games won
Jumping on just one leg.

Growing learning pre-teen years
Now you know everything
Fights with girls and boys and tears
I don't know anything.

Taller than me, looking down
I nearly recognize myself
Raucous laughter, deep deep frown
Eat life up, my elf.

Flash forward in time from now
Unearthing bright memories in advance
Laugh through judgement, pain and vow
To always take that chance.

Dan Felstead said...

This is a long one...it is an excerpt from a self published book I am writing to my 23 year old son but I thought it applied to the topic at hand....

"..."Life is an hourglass glued to the table. No one can find the rewind button boy so cradle your head in your hands and breathe"…taken from Breathe 2 am.

No brothers, no sisters…just me, Mom and Dad. My whole life has been centered on small groups of relatives, friends, and acquaintances. I have always been torn between a deeply private and a very public dichotomy. I grew up on a farm, in the rolling hills of southern Indiana. Not exactly a farm but in the country. There were many conversations between me and the horses. They were my best friends growing up. Along with my dogs, the horses and I secretly planned out my life with grandiose dreams. I knew there was a big world out there just waiting for me to make my mark. My parents were not rich but they were always there for me and supported my big dreams. Now, many years later, I can see that they never stunted my need to follow paths that they knew would probably lead to a dead end now and then but it was a necessary road to be traveled in order to find my way. Throughout grade school and high school I moved though life without question, without investigation, without second guessing the direction I was headed. I just knew that my parents were always there and they were my safety net, leaving me the luxury to take chances and experiment with life. I always enjoyed the speech competitions, the wrestling matches, the political parties at school, learning to drive, that first date and that first love. But I always relished those private conversations with my faithful friends under the saddle.

They would take me on long adventures into the solitude of the woods. Even though we had explored acres and acres of open fields and streams that ran fast after the spring rains, I always seemed to find an area in the woods that we had never been to before. I could sit there on that horse for an hour and listen to the sounds of birds, smell the humidity after a rain, and gaze at the sunlight streaming through the thick, towering trees that sheltered me from every human on earth. It truly is a memory that haunts me to this day. It was a time and place that remained with my childhood, never to surface again. The horses have passed on, the woods have been cleared and the innocence has faded but when I need that solitude, I still visit those special places in my imagination. Those special places where we made our plans, dreamed our dreams, and had our conversations…the horses and me. You had those special places and times during your youth. Even if you had turmoil swirling around you, you still have those special corners of your past that you went to when you needed to sort out youth’s struggles, conflicts, needs of independence, and private dreams that only you and your closest allies knew about. They were your dogs, your cat, your next door neighbor who was a year older than you. Revisit those quiet corners often for I am convinced they hold answers that you are looking for today. You were just a kid, but that is where your dreams began. You have just forgotten where to find them...."

Dan the wordy Felstead

SSQuo said...

Of discovery and adventure
My first toy
The rain falling down
The puddle to splash

Hopscotch and hide ‘n seek
Climbing walls and tails of puppies

Of giggles and smirks
My twinkly eyes
Staring at the ice cream
‘Lick lick’

Learning the words
All set to take off to the ‘Faraway Tree’

Of mama and dada
Their smells I feel safe with
A tuck into bed
Goodnight my baby, goodnight

Unknown said...

TINY TOES

Tiny toes hesitant and slow
Eagerly gripping the ground
Wanting to walk, wanting to run
Testing the limit of skills

Tiny feet supporting the child
Chubby, cute and pink
Will they hold the growing weight
Supporting the child with care

Tiny legs sturdy and squat
The major force of mobility
Two strong supports fit for life
Teaching the child how to go

septembermom said...

Pockets filled with seashells.
Popsicle stick towers falling over.
Buckets tipping over sandcastles.
Sandy hands squeezing Mom's tight.
Child footprints back to memory.

Anonymous said...

Brendan squated down and gave the water flowing over his feet an expiremental poke. He whipped back his arm, giggling at the cool sudsey feeling on his bare toes. The sun was warming his back while "mama" lounged on the grass reading and "dada" washed the car. He and "Meggie" tried to avoide the hose wetting their legs. His sister pranced away, always the ballerina, but Brendan's chubby child legs locked up in of surprise. Delighted screams echoed off the trees.

Dani said...

Oh if I could keep you now
Forever innocent and small
Oh if I could keep those toes
So tiny, chubby, and sweet

If I could only hold you close
Throughout your whole life long
If I could keep you safe from harm
And keep the world so far

If you could stay a little child
Pure in thought, pure in action
That dimpled smile pasted on
Never to see such tears

But no, the child must grow so tall
And learn to become someone
And I must hold that precious hand
And lead them until they let go

I hope you remember how it was
To be that little child
And see the world a little brighter
So the future can be so

Marc said...

Bare feet sinking into sand,
Shell filled greedy little hands;
Sun casts shadowed mirror friend -
My how quickly bruises mend!

Soft breeze rustles yellow hair;
Such a blinded dreamer's stare.
Waves wash away dirty pain,
Cool peace within sandy grains.

Michael Saiz said...

Through the screen door
I spy on the faces of joy
The neighbor kids are having fun
Outside it is raining
Inside I am dry and squeaky clean
They stomp and frolic in the puddles of our dirt road
There is mud on everyone but me
For this is the scene: I can not be dirty today
I am not allowed outside to play
even on the sunniest of days

Anonymous said...

With wet feet she came..
giggling,running into my home
but my heart's door were shut

wet feet do not leave
everlasting impressions
so i thought and smiled..

She walked all over the house
mud,wood and brick floor alike,
and then into the wet cement..

as she left her marks there,
those tiny feet came to me
into my lap,into my heart..

It no longer matter now
she wasn't my flesh and blood
I was her dad still ..

The reflection of my dead lover,
she was all i had to call mine
the star of my dull life.


posted at : http://ofsomethingsomething.blogspot.com/2009/02/tiny-feet.html

Anonymous said...

loved the poem by CDB and bobbi :)

Anonymous said...

Tiny feet slap the water
Barely a dimple in the sand
High pitched squeals and giggles ring out
Little bodies shake and shimmer
Joy, sweet joy shines like sunbeams in the air

For blue skies. said...

My Aunt Karen.
We went for walks in her garden. And I made a spaceship out of her kitchen cabinets. She was always patient and gentle, and I wasnt used to that. I think she likes children better than adults. Uncomplicated and Free. Children are living in their own moments. She would listen to me and talk to me. I didnt realize then how much I would appreciate it. I never realized how much she influenced me. We like quiet places, like the river and the flowers. And I bet she drinks tea at night too. I understand why she would rather spend time with her grandchildren and neices than talk with the "adults". We find comfort in youth. Things are so simple. I miss spending summer evenings at her house. I wish I could go back, because I was not myself. I would have talked my heart out. We're not jaded anymore. I'd like to gow old like her. I would like to learn without losing. Learn what life is about, without losing my freedoms and happiness.