Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tags
#giggling
Gazing at the blue gray mountains as their edges fade with the shifting clouds that hang over them; preparing just to wrap up a storm, my mind’s reveries conjure up a tempest Pondering what has already been pondered a million times or more by anyone whose lifetime has reached the furthest shore. Contemplating that which has been contemplated by multitudes who have gone before, Seeking a lighthearted song and hopeful surprises that can never go wrong. Sitting in the silence of clouds passing by; shifting their shapes and twirling their fates to each passerby. What’s in store as the next page turns; chalking it up to another chapter, a newer version of what has gone before. Wet eyelashes escort yesterday’s memories which seem to stumble over comrades’ luscious giggles and four-squares. Singing a song of sixpence and homemade apple pies…Twirling picnic baskets of summertime’s playful and joy-filled eyes. Skipping lightly with a ne’er-do-care disposition that seems to go on and on without end...spaces are stolen and whispers of secrets gone wrong shift and fade away in summertime’s sunny songs. Remembering playtime in the grass; chasing butterflies and bumble bees in mamas borrowed glass. Kool-Aid stands’ samples sweeten our memories of childhood’s desires. At that, rolling down hills and watching the shapes shift in their white, cloudy milieu; bringing down the house with giggles and easy, mind-bending imaginations that paint amazing visions of their future.
0
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 5:32 PM UTC
nancy-jo-whitmore
Another Eve
Gazing at the blue gray mountains as their edges fade with the shifting clouds that hang over them; preparing just to wrap up a storm, my mind’s reveries conjure up a tempest Pondering what has already been pondered a million times or more by anyone whose lifetime has reached the furthest shore. Contemplating that which has been contemplated by multitudes who have gone before, Seeking a lighthearted song and hopeful surprises that can never go wrong. Sitting in the silence of clouds passing by; shifting their shapes and twirling their fates to each passerby. What’s in store as the next page turns; chalking it up to another chapter, a newer version of what has gone before. Wet eyelashes escort yesterday’s memories which seem to stumble over comrades’ luscious giggles and four-squares. Singing a song of sixpence and homemade apple pies…Twirling picnic baskets of summertime’s playful and joy-filled eyes. Skipping lightly with a ne’er-do-care disposition that seems to go on and on without end...spaces are stolen and whispers of secrets gone wrong shift and fade away in summertime’s sunny songs. Remembering playtime in the grass; chasing butterflies and bumble bees in mamas borrowed glass. Kool-Aid stands’ samples sweeten our memories of childhood’s desires. At that, rolling down hills and watching the shapes shift in their white, cloudy milieu; bringing down the house with giggles and easy, mind-bending imaginations that paint amazing visions of their future.
Continue reading...
9
Giggles from the child as water runs down her back, matching the swinging wind chimes just outside the wide-open window. Her mother smiles, her shirtsleeves rolled up and yet wet and covered in tiny bubbles. The white tile around them glistens in the sunlight pouring in, and I, the grinning dad who just got home, stand in the doorway, softened clay. My wife, my beautiful wife, looks up at me and says “Hey honey,” and runs another small jug of bathwater over my baby’s soft head of hair. The little one trickles out “Hi Daaaaddy,” and giggles again, as her mother scrubs her little back and shoulders. Seeing this scene in front of me, my eyes water slightly. I pull it back in; after all these years it’s still difficult for me to simply be joyous. Nonetheless, there is an ache in my heart, the ache one feels when they first fall in love, and I am standing here falling all over again. I roll up my sleeves and drop to my knees, and give my wife and my sweetie the biggest pecks I can muster, and clean her delicate little arms. The mother pours another jug, and once again, this little darling angel, like wind chimes swinging outside, giggles.
0
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
AlekthePoet
Giggles
Giggles from the child as water runs down her back, matching the swinging wind chimes just outside the wide-open window. Her mother smiles, her shirtsleeves rolled up and yet wet and covered in tiny bubbles. The white tile around them glistens in the sunlight pouring in, and I, the grinning dad who just got home, stand in the doorway, softened clay. My wife, my beautiful wife, looks up at me and says “Hey honey,” and runs another small jug of bathwater over my baby’s soft head of hair. The little one trickles out “Hi Daaaaddy,” and giggles again, as her mother scrubs her little back and shoulders. Seeing this scene in front of me, my eyes water slightly. I pull it back in; after all these years it’s still difficult for me to simply be joyous. Nonetheless, there is an ache in my heart, the ache one feels when they first fall in love, and I am standing here falling all over again. I roll up my sleeves and drop to my knees, and give my wife and my sweetie the biggest pecks I can muster, and clean her delicate little arms. The mother pours another jug, and once again, this little darling angel, like wind chimes swinging outside, giggles.
Continue reading...
30