Nostalgia Poems
Waar de heuvels de hemel kussen
by Mario Odekerken
In Zuid-Limburg ontwaakt de morgen
als een zachte geliefde,
met gouden licht dat over de groene heuvels glijdt,
terwijl de mist nog even tussen de dalen blijft dromen
en de aarde haar schoonheid zonder woorden prijsgeeft.
Langs stille beekjes fluistert het water oude geheimen,
tussen bloesemende bomen en velden vol geur en licht,
waar elke krokelende weg lijkt te leiden naar een belofte
die verborgen ligt achter de volgende heuvel.
......
In the Good Old Days
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
We were all much younger, happier then,
And untouched by heartache, sadness;
In dreams, we go back again and again,
And bring to our hearts gladness!
From Grandpa Frank, father of the Fields,
And Miss Pauline, who married his boy;
The hand of fate's no longer concealed,
As countless descendents live the joy.
......
Memories
by Supriya Yadav
As like season change
Same as people change
I don't know how to reverse
Myself from lover to stranger
Easy for you to change
Difficult for me to accept
It's not actually your fault
Just like season people change
......
Photograph
by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu
Some haunt me pleasantly,
Using the grains of dewy silence that speak loudly
Within the long, grey halls of history.
I recline on such images with smiles I borrow from
The penetralia of my soul and skin.
Behind them come lean trees denuded by the swift
Gales of re-greened winters that celebrated
Friendliness in the course of wondrous seasons.
I peer deeply at them, genuflecting to Time
For its abundance of grace and reflections.
......
The Red Room
by Liv Atkinson
I think that if you were to crack my ribs
If you were to peel back my skin and cleave apart the muscle and cartilage and bone
Let me bleed as you dig your fingers into the cavity of my chest, clutch my heart, and pull,
If you were to take it and cut it into a million tiny pieces,
You would find a little red door
With an old brass handle.
The door would open to a room the color of merlot wine
With cherry hardwood floors.
It has yellow paper stars on the rich walls
And glossy guitars
......
Waar de heuvels de hemel kussen
by Mario Odekerken
In Zuid-Limburg ontwaakt de morgen
als een zachte geliefde,
met gouden licht dat over de groene heuvels glijdt,
terwijl de mist nog even tussen de dalen blijft dromen
en de aarde haar schoonheid zonder woorden prijsgeeft.
Langs stille beekjes fluistert het water oude geheimen,
tussen bloesemende bomen en velden vol geur en licht,
waar elke krokelende weg lijkt te leiden naar een belofte
die verborgen ligt achter de volgende heuvel.
......
Recalling Joyland
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Delia was widowed and getting on in years, like pink stars multiplying.
She lived in a house under vast trees-pretty when red sun was dying!
There, green birds greeted each golden morning, like diamond riches.
Life was peaceful and happy. Googly-eyed frogs leapt in tiny ditches.
A yearning to write children's songs, Delia had, like smiling ambitions.
Songs that children would love singing, like the heart's premonitions.
Church friends and friendly neighbors, shared smiles, when they'd visit;
......
Summer Fairy
by Ajay Tamla
***
"It was early, I was late,
rushing downhill on my bike
when I saw her at the corner—
waiting, checking left, then right
Her hair dark, still shower-damp,
silky-smooth-straight in morning light,
one foot on the curb, another in the street.
......
The Room Where the Light Forgot Its Name
by Oscar Auliq-Ice
I keep returning to a memory
that will not stay still long enough
to be called truth.
It begins in a corridor of afternoon light—
or maybe it was morning pretending—
and a door half-closed,
as if someone had just stepped out of the world
and forgot to shut the idea of leaving behind them.
......
Most Special Day
by Evelyn Judy Buehler
Tanngerine sun was shining, in what many called the olden, golden days;
And Sandra Adams was a year older, like loveliness, jeweled art portrays.
Sandra lived with her parents, younger sister, Maggie, and brother, Bob;
In the dazzling, distant, Blue Mountains. There colorful wildflowers mob.
Sandra's tenth birthday was much anticipated, but it had not arrived yet;
Like songs that peak at coral sunup, as violet moon conveys cool regrets.
Friends had fun dangling yoyos on fingers, or flying kites, dazzling colors,
......
