"icecreams" poems
White clouds floating
streams of dreams
sun above gloating
melting icecreams
sunbathers basking
applying cream
butterflies dancing
partying it seems
Everything appears to be smiling
Long may the sun keep shining
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
Tucked away in our subconsciousness is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are travelling by train. Out the windows, we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving on a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.
But the uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we reach there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will be fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes loitering, waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.
"When we reach the station, that will be it", we cry. "When I'm 18", "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz", "When I put my last kid through collage", "When I have paid off the mortgage", "When I get a promotion", "When I reach the age of the retirement, I shall live happily ever after."
Sooner or later, we must realize that there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
"Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled withe the Psalm 118:24:"This is the day which the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tommorrow. Reget and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.
So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more icecreams, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. Then the station will come soon enough.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC
Twinkle twinkle little star,
Every night you glisten so far,
My grandchildren live afar,
Tell them they are the best by far.
I have no one to say,
Grandma,please don't go,stay,
Only a little while,
I love to see your happy smile.
For long I have not felt you sleep on my shoulder,
A chance to hold you a little longer.
I would love to feed you with icecreams and cookies,
Shower on you cuddles and kisses.
Day and night,
I miss my grandparent right,
To store your beautiful childhood memories,
To form a strong bond that every grandparent cherishes.
The pages of my life have you missing,
For what I have and cannot have
my heart aching.
Remember,though we may be apart,
You will always be in my heart.
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Childhood is when you dance to the beat of your own heart,
Laugh in abundance,
Soak in innocence,
Roam without care or stress,
Happy you,
Carefree you
Free of spirit,
Like a bird that soars in the sky.
When you find solace in your mother's lap,
When bruised knees and elbows
are easier to heal,
Than a shattered heart,
When a puddle is an opportunity
to enjoy than an obstacle,
When toys, and icecreams matter more,
A war for a chocolate bar,
When you have little fights,
Then, hug each other tight.
Childhood is when you are loved by everyone,
When you are your parents happiness,
When grandparents have lots of time to play with you,
They never tire reading you the same story again and again,
Don't mind if you have an extra helping.
Your childhood is stored in your
memories,
An old book, smells or textures, a certain habit or food.
No pain, no heartaches.
Hold onto some of your childhood tightly.
11/3/2019.
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
we amble down, the hill,
to the waterside markets.
i find it so quaint,
that our town has a green
beside it's river, running.
grass manicured and lush,
presently filled with little town of tents,
and open marquee stalls
that sell, all manner
of things,
plate sized portobello mushrooms,
olive tappenade,
great bunches of happy faced flowers,
cupcakes of scrumptious, more and more-ish flavours.
home made cordials.
jewellery, and cushions and
carved wooden bread boxes.
all spread out for us to see.
ant and owls made from old
silver spoons..... bonsia trees, fresh herbs, jamon
and piccalilli, tropical fruits
in smoothies, icecreams and salads
and over, under the age old
morton bay fig
face painters, wooden geegaws and thingymagigs
painted in bright carnival colours.......
what a way,
wonderful and sublime,
to while away,
a lazy sunday morning..
we amble back up the hill
with bags of edible treasures
an silver owl named boo....
a child tiger hybrid and a spinning clown....
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
Many a times, when I am alone
I just find myself thinking of the fun
Collecting pouring water, drenching in the rain
Sailing my paper boats in the small drain
Catching frogs from puddles of water,
in matchboxes
And throwing them on young and old with giggles and smiles
Smearing the silver, golden color on my friends
Of the butterflies that we picked in the sunny garden
Feasting on dollops of homemade icecreams and chuskies (ice lollies)
Listening to stories of kings n demons by granny
How could I forget that fight with parents
To stay awake all night during summer or winter break
To watch uncountable movies on the rented video player
Or to read Agatha Christie, Enid Blyton in just one sitting
There was a different story all the time
for each of my tantrums and fantasies alike
And a unique reason for enjoying every season
Oh! How I wish I could have a time machine
To take me back to my childhood innocence
I really miss being a little kid O my Lord!
With no stress, worries or care in the world...!!!
© Neeloo 'NeelPari'
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 9:54 AM UTC
I'm bored,
Bored of waiting for that warm sunshine in monsoon.
I'm bored,
Bored of craving for rains in hot summer.
I'm bored,
Bored of waiting for maple leaves in the cold winter.
I'm bored,
Bored of craving to wear sweaters in autumn.
I'm bored,
Bored of waiting for green beginnings in yellow summer evenings.
I'm bored,
Bored of craving for icecreams while in spring.
Sep 22, 2020
Sep 22, 2020 at 4:27 AM UTC
Looking out across the shore,
there's nothing now that i want more
than you right next to me
sharing that sweet little breeze
Sharing memories
It's you that I want
it's always been you
It's you right there
in a little of all I do
(CHORUS)
It's a beautiful day for memories
a day for fun,
a day for sharing summer sun
But It feels cold & lonely inside my heart
because we're so far apart
Strolling along in summer sun
watching the children having fun
Icecreams and slushies
rollerskates and puppies
Waves dance upon the sand
there's a broken boardwalk for me to stand
Artists gather to paint such a day
In my painting I'd use just grey
It's how I feel when you're so far away
(CHORUS)
It's a beautiful day for memories
a day for fun,
a day for sharing summer sun
I wish you were here to ment my heart
I ache inside when we're apart
I look across the grains of sand
I meet a face from where I stand
deep inside I feel a warm glow
for it's the face I love you know
I run to you, you run to me
you're here to share a memory
I've been waiting here every day
and you've never been too far away
(CHORUS)
It's a beautiful day for memories
a day for fun,
a day for sharing summer sun
Now that you're here we'll never part
for you're here to offer me your heart
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 2:08 PM UTC
you gave me that
"i know you want me" smile
& amongst the heat of the summer,
with flowers blooming on every corner,
the streets flooded with vendors selling handmade trinkets
& three layered icecreams to die for
i couldn't deny the fact
that indeed,
none of those things could even compare
to the look on your face
in that moment,
i truly could not have wanted anything
more than
i wanted you
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Shrills and shrieks of joyful children,
early in the morning
Sun shines through rippling curtains,
golden and gracious in soft light
Sandal tanlines, eating icecreams
on the heated pavement
And we know: Summer is here
Homemade apple pie from trees
in the blessed blooming garden,
where colours thrive and dance
like kites in the sky
Craving shade through humid walks,
shadows of winter left behind
in the cold
Icy water refreshes, revives us
And we know: Summer is here
Late night sounds of the church bells
rich as the air drifts swiftly in,
sweet and new as the day
which quickly dawns
But our smiling eyes are heavy,
with tired laughs and scents
of smoke
as the barbeque cooks
the last meal
of the long, long day
And we know: Summer is here
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
"Best friends forever?"
He says forever
With that I conclude-
Bad times won't matter
Walking on sidewalk
Eating icecreams
We talk and talk
I don't have a sibling
He became one
I don't have a friend
I don't care-
I don't need some
With him, nothing else matter
He became my savior
I'd cherish him forever
But in times of contentment
The perfect bliss fades
I don't know what happened
"I'm leaving"
Ok, fine
No worries
No goodbye
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 6:20 AM UTC
i wasn't a full moon when you met me
and there's nothing to howl at here
i was in the midst of waxing away,
ready to disappear from the sky
and stop the ocean's gears from turning.
you could've fit me on the tip of your thumb nail
small enough for the change in your wallet
spent on dollar cone icecreams and donut shops
i was easy to miss if you just glanced over me
but for some reason your eyes stopped.
you fit me in the palm of your hand and kissed me
making my ***** mouth flourish into something big
i'm starting to fit into my twin-sized bed a little better
and because you stopped and looked at me
you've made me into a full moon.
(a.m.c.)
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
Many a times, when I am alone
I just find myself thinking of the fun
Collecting pouring water, drenching in the rain
Sailing my paper boats in the small drain
Catching in matchboxes frogs from puddles of water,
And throwing them on young and old with giggles and smiles
Smearing the silver, golden color on my friends
Of the butterflies that we picked in the sunny garden
Feasting on dollops of homemade icecreams and chuskies (ice lollies)
Listening to stories of kings n demons by granny
How could I forget hat fight with parents
To stay awake all night during summer or winter break
To watch uncountable movies on the rented video recorder
Or to read Agatha Christie, Enid Blyton in just one sitting
There was a different story all the time
for each of my tantrums and fantasies alike
And a unique reason for enjoying every season
Oh! How I wish I could have a time machine
To take me back to my childhood innocence
I really miss being a little kid O my Lord!
With no stress, worries or care in the world...!!!
© Neeloo 'NeelPari'
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
I remember those August days,
Trembling on the brink of summer
Like a swimmer dipping a toe.
I remember blameless hours spent
Drifting through the heat like a blowfly,
Indolent and
Slow.
I remember casual cricket games and
Cut price soft drinks causing a local sensation.
I remember the group gatherings behind the scout hall
To share cigarettes and have a stab at being adults,
Secure in the knowledge that such things were impossible.
Adults were a separate species and we would never grow up.
We were complete as we were.
I remember November, hopping from
Pool of shade to pool of shade like a bullfrog,
All to get to the river and fry anyway
A tangerine mosaic of sticky sweets and dry grass,
Of swimming horizons and excited, sleepless nights where
We would play childish word games and
Talk for hours about precisely nothing.
Yet, to us, it was everything.
A loosely jointed circle between the pool, the shop and
The park, in those days when icecreams were 50c and
School a rapidly sinking memory.
I remember the sun hovering above us like a polished golden coin,
Cycloptic witness to our petty thefts and juvenile scheming,
Striking down on our heads like a marshmallow hammer,
Making me want to stretch out and purr.
I remember the slow receding of the heat
When the summer scale is lifted for another year
And life must be faced once more.
I remember the web of friendship we had woven with our
Words and with our deeds dissolved under the rain of Autumn and
Left me with cupped hands, hands
Filled with the sugared water of my happiness.
Sweet nectar that dried soon enough and
Left my hands sticky, ***** stark against the
Bitter wind of the winter.
I remember falling off the tightrope of my life and finding
Not the net that I had never needed but
A drop that I could only guess at,
Where the sun fell away with quicksilver speed and
I was stripped naked by the wind left
Cold and shivering, hugging my knees as I fell.
I remember growing up and leaving my childhood
Behind like a skin I had outgrown, like a
Friend that I had broken contact with.
I remember coloured dreams breaking like crystal.
I remember being at the top of my mountain and
Tumbling away, away
I remember crying for my
Joy gone by.
I remember, one day I will forget and
Then I will have moved on and my hands will be
Clean again.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 5:03 AM UTC
mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mm
in a swirl of
cards, spoons, cereals,
books, brooms, thermometers,
laundry, photos, flipflops,
knives, gifts, rollerblades,
dishes, yogurts, candy,
catfood, homework, pajamas,
cartons of milk, tickets,
money, toys, sweaters,
hats, bags, sandwiches,
phones, pants, messages,
icecreams, umbrellas, lunches,
handcrafts, letters, bottles,
breakfasts, shampoos, succus
and tattarrattat
this
little bitty pretty one
is lost
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 2:34 AM UTC