The Swing

Here’s a poem ….

When I was a child
I remember the swing
In the garden
My dad had made it of wood
And there it stood
I sat on the swing
So high I swung
It was the dawn
Fresh day
My day just begun
The dew on the grass glistened
Like a million little lights
I imagined they were fairies
As they twinkled bright
I’d swing higher and higher
As high as I could
On the dear old swing
Made of wood
It creaked very much
But I didn’t mind
It was a great feeling
No other kind
Swinging high
So high
Then off I’d jump
With a thump
The birds were singing
And the day so quiet
Like me
I said not a word
Whilst the whole of the
World could be heard
I’d listen
And watch those fairies glisten
It was another day
Childhood days so innocent
I cherish them
In my memory
Peaceful days
Of happy times
No strife
Just a simple family life
With my mum my dad my brother
My aunties and uncles
Cousins grandmothers
Our pet dog
A budgie too
Life was just grand
Through and through

Author: rosyhaze

I became interested in poetry about a year ago and try to write about things from my heart that are associated with events in my life or events going on in the World at large or closer to home. I am a visual artist and still am to a certain extent having exhibited some of my work as a visually impaired artist using sponges to paint. I have lost most of my eyesight in recent years to advanced glaucoma and my vision is now very limited I am finding my creativity now evolving in writing poetry and hope to publish my own book of verse in the future. I have a blog page on Wordpress where I share my poetry, art, photography, thoughts and favourite quotes and prayers at https://rosypoems.com

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