Read poems about Childhood from authors all over the world. Are you a poet? If yes, then you can also submit poems about Childhood by going to the submit poem page.
when u once lived herelife was so much differentlife was fun and kewllife was always an adventure for me & uTaylor & I are always gonna bechildhood bestieswe're frens till the endI got your bac
The most enjoying period in one's life, Is the exciting childhood life.There is so much time for play, And also make things with clay.We make many friends, And chat away to no ends.There is no
Can I forget my mother’s cooking skills, Her punishments and kind advice at times? Can I forget the games at school and drills, My kindergarten teacher who taught rhymes? Can I forget my siblin
The sharp, irregular knock of woodenbrush’s shoulder against skirting-board, punctuated with the lighter tapof brush on pan, the contents neatlytapped back into its metal or plastic maw; the kn
There is a place from our childhood; we like to visit now and then, to recapture our youth, through the years that has slipped away. A place that has a magic touch, even through the years it has
Childhood memories are often steeped in mystery. The older we get the memories exclude sometimes things we might find painful as we journeyed on. I tried to visualise my childhood as a happy one,
In a land far far awayLived pixiesand elvesand fairiesand goblinsA fantasy which I had fallen in love with.In a deep dark caveLived a huge, dangerous MonsterThat was loud and ferociousAnd t
Among the things enriching, That helped to shape my life, Was the county fairWith fond memories in rife.October of each year, The fair would come to town.The rides were fun, and the air cool—
CHILDHOOD MEMORIESI still remember my childhood, Love, affection and chide of my mother, Weeping in a false manner, Playing in the moonlight, Struggles with cousins and companions, Psuedo-chide
Back when I was a kid at play, we played games throughout the day, Telephone wires that snapped on the ground, were our skipping ropes we had found.Stilts were made from wood poles so grand, W
Happy childhood memories the best memories of allAnd my younger years in Millstreet I will always recallOn evenings in Summer up to the mid FallIn the Townpark at the West End we played gaelic foot
Up on the hillIn the posh areasWhere the Victorian villasWere set back from tree lined roads, The gas lamps in the streets wereWrought iron, carved and elegant.The lampleerie would open them An