The Lost World Symphony - Pt 1

The Lost World Symphony - Pt 1

A Poem by Tinman07
"

Some references may be UK specific, and perhaps age related... but hopefully all can enjoy something from this.

"

Climbing trees, muddy knees

Kickabout, ‘To me!’ we’d shout

Rolling logs, muddy bogs, catching frogs

Make a fire, swinging tyre

Out and about until the shout

If not the shout, then we all knew

Sunset or streetlights would mean Curfew

Oxford bags and sneaky f**s

Get your kicks from Number 6

What everyone will always miss

Is their first love, and love’s first kiss

Making do when playing cricket

With milk crate stumps in place of wicket

Was it Wild, Wild West or World War Two?

No space aliens yet, all much too new

Kiss chase, kick can, hide and seeks

The stuff we had to fill six weeks


Whatever else I’m sure you’ll see...

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be.

© 2016 Tinman07


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Nostalgia is big for me...I am often still that young kid playing outside till way after dark...those days when we rode bikes, played Red light/green light and never wanted to come back inside.
Even in NY playing at the park...Nok=hockey...hopscotch...
the fifties....seemed such an age of simplicity and innocence, even though behind the scenes it was what we were naive about...
but this poem took me back...and the symphony in the title is ironic for me.
I used to listen to my parents listening to all their classical music on vinyl...78 records...
j.

Posted 3 Years Ago


Tinman07

3 Years Ago

Hi Jacob... and thank you.
I've been absent for a long time and had even forgotten about this.. read more
this was very creative and thoughtful great!

Posted 8 Years Ago


Tinman07

8 Years Ago

I thank you... I'm working on a few others in a similar vein (hence the Pt 1). I decided to break i.. read more

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Added on June 8, 2016
Last Updated on June 8, 2016

Author

Tinman07
Tinman07

Conwy, North Wales, United Kingdom



About
As a lifelong reader I love words and wordplay. Now and again I feel inspired to put some words to paper. Only trouble is that I can only ever read my own words through rose-tinted glasses. If you .. more..

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