A Swing's Only

ivoryannaliseWriter, Reader, YouTuber, and Artist
Autoplay OFF  •  9 months ago
A swing's memories are never quite what you might think they are because sometimes, like all of us, they become attached. But for a playground where children come and go, this is a battleground of memories.

A Swing's Only

by ivoryannalise

Rain falls on a sleepy town,

And all there is to see is a little playground.

Its swings rock back and forth,

But never the last one, the fourth.

It stands still,

A reluctant memory on this hill.

It still shakes with the memories of her,

Even though now, she's just a blur.

She used to come and play,

And keep his nightmares of silence at bay.

But day by day,

She grew older, until he was just child's play.

And now he's left lonely,

With nothing but the memories of his only.

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8 months agoReply
@bernardtwindwil :D Yes. Swings were always my favorite at the park. :) You are so sweet! This means so much to me! This is one of my favorite poems out of the ones I've written. Robert Frost's writing is so beautiful. Thank you so much!!

bernardtwindwilGold CommaGranddad & story teller, tomthepo8.com
9 months agoReply
Zowie!! And I might add, WOW!! This was exquisitely beautiful. The ingenious view of that swing that we all have seen and moved on with an empty smile. You found the pot of gold, this beautiful thought, and were able to write it down with a mastery of the English language on the levels of the greats. It brings to mind, Robert Frost. Great great poem!!!!!!