When outside I went, I would run hard to explore
Shouting not to get left behind, for the treasures
Won’t last forever.
When outside I went, on my own this time
I would lie, fat in my over-large coat,
And examine the simplest things
How a blade of grass would sway in the wind
Watch the water in the creek flow and trickle
Most wondrous of liquids
I would watch the fat frog croak, and swell
See the butterflies tango in love
And the Ants march on loyally
I would lay on my back for hours
And look up, and watch, as the world
Floated by me, characters of my imagination.
I would read Harry Potter, for hours
A getaway to a magical place, so unlike mine
And go to sleep with my fingers crossed
Wishing I would wake up in Hogwarts.
But now, I am older
No longer do I run hard to explore
Wear fat over-coats, or small bobble hats
No longer do I slip on my adventure gum boots
And lie, and watch as a blade of grass sways
Nor a fat frog croaking, nor a butterfly tango
No, those days that would never end
Those days when I would never grow up
Have come and gone, faded like dew on the grass
For which so amazed and intrigued me
Back then the world was small and satisfying
And nothing beat apple mush.
But now, when I am older
The world is small and confusing
There is no right or wrong, no good and bad
There is only this, and the weariness of age.
But tomorrow, I will put on my over-large coat
Slip into my adventure boots, don my bobble beanie
And run outside, after a small boy
Wearing an over-large coat, adventure boots
And a bobble beanie, not un-like mine.
He will be shouting not to be left behind
Because the treasure won’t last forever
But it’s too late
I will run around the corner, to where the meadow
With the creek running through it’s heart lay
Where once shimmering grass shone
Where butterflies tangoed, and fat frogs croaked.
I will run around the corner, and it will not be there.
I will look left and right and see only rows of driveways
Letter-boxes, cars, telephone poles, and street lights
And wonder where is the grass, the trees, the trickle of water
The colourful wings of the butterfly, the croak of the frog
But they will be gone, and I will never find them again.
By James Madden
Author notes
Written November 15th, 2006
A contest entry
- i'd rather feel pain than nothing at all by live to die.
390 points, ended December 15, 2006, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - SHOW ME A POEM by Cherokee.
500 points, ended September 23, 2007, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 24 of 24
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This is very thoughtful. I really like the dream-like mood of a perosn looking back on their memories that you have created in this poem. Very nicely written.
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THis is very idyllic and pastoral, whimsical and relaxing. It's an adventure we all remember and long for, an adventure only very few manage to reinvent in adulthood. I found this poem to be a joyful read. It really takes you back. Very well written and very expressive. Great Job!
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Well, I've tried three times to leave you three applause, but I must be doing something wrong,'cuz it won't let me. Consider yourself applauded. cq
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Oh, this is just fabulous. fat frogs croaking and fat overcoats and butterflies tango. What wonderfully evocative images you've conjured. I just hate to gush, yet here I am gushing all over you. I really, really loved this. Bravo and Thank you. cq
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i know its cliched (whoops on the spelling) but words cant describe...nice poem though. its really god for a guy so young, and i hope you haven't lost your 'neverland.'
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very good
I really liked this poem...very insightful. -
I really like this piece. It's a fantastic return to the simplicity of childhood. Being in nature is the only that gives me a feeling anywhere close to that constant amazement you have with everything when you are a child. I can't wait until it warms up enough to take my canoe out again. Great write.
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Oh, wow. I wasn't expecting this when I first clicked. This piece is really nicely penned. It flows wonderfully and really made me think. I enjoyed reading this. The sentiment behind it is really nice too. Nicely penned. Keep up the good work.
Love always,
Kristen ♥ -
Interesting
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Why is it that our youth haunts us so? Why can't we find pleasures in the small things now? Find new haunts and dream new fantasies? I guess we are jaded by this fast pace life we tend to lead. Blah blah
I loved this poem. Usually I find it difficult to get through anything with more than 10 lines, but you made it easy.
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sorry.
im really sorry, but im in a weird mood today, i cant really concentrate on the poem right now, but i'll come back and comment on it later. tomorrow probably. im rearlly sorry.
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Fabulous
Wow, this is absolutly amazing. It's like a dream, life - brilliant imagery I could see everything and those are the kinds of poems that stand out most.
Stephy -
soothing
really good work. that is a very creative peace of work you made. one thing you have when it comes to poetry is detail. you include plenty detail. picturing this poem was very soothing as well. overall i loved it. keep it up!
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Fitting
I think the title is very fitting to your piece and reall y does open up a world of possibilities for the direction that such a piece could take. I liked meandering through your almost life like memories and finding who you are meant to be in this piece. Interesting, assertive and colourfully emotive as well as exploratory. Thank you very much for sharing and all the best to you. Anthony aka Tony. -
good
Good work, lots of honesty and imagry... keep it up
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i like this bc it is true about life. youth seems to just be a glimpse, but it's a great thing to feel that youth through your child. alittle long to hold the readers attention, but true all the same.
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Aw, I love this! The imagery you present of when the narrator was a child is amazing and the sorrow you evoke when he grows up is beautiful! This is amazing. A true 'neverland' comes through in your poem. Love it.
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It's not gone, it's right there in your mind!
James, it was with great pleasure I've read 'Neverland' this afternoon. Your tender lines filled with childhood innocense were a doorway to the past. So many images to feast on, as if being privy to your personal photo alblum.
But such a poignant ending. We're never too old to lay in the grass and watch it bend with the breeze, hear the frogs or imagine figures floating by. Once we've experienced them for real we can do it over and over, even when the body is tired and old, we still have our memories. Sometimes they're the only thing that reminds us the difference of what's good and bad in the world.
Thank you for the wonderful read today, and a very warm welcome to AP!
LEt the ink flow
Sandi
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I think that the imagination of youth is a wonderous thing, but not that it necessarily dies with age...maybe all one really needs to do is to join the child that can still see the butterfly tangos and everything will be as it should....for a while.
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I think that the imagination of youth is a wonderous thing, but not that it necessarily dies with age...maybe all one really needs to do is to join the child that can still see the butterfly tangos and everything will be as it should....for a while.
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Powerful.
That was an awesome peice.
It flowed the whole way through perfectly.
Truly.. wonderful.
Thank you for sharing this very extremely appreciated
NSH
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Good.
I think this is good. It's hard to be honest like this. Sometimes poets refrain from using popular culture icons like Harry Potter but I think it rests well upon the soul here because it's true. We all like flowery images, but, we also love Harry. And yes... things go away. Nice. -
This is really nicely done. I like the images you put across and can completely relate. Welcome to AP by the way, what a great way to start!
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