Best Swing Poems

Swing, swing, swing your feet
Then you point your toes
Lean, lean, lean on back
Pull your legs in close

Hold, hold, hold on tight
Tightly to the rope
Grip, grip, grip it right
Never let it go

Spin, spin, spin around
Pull your feet back in
Slow, slow, slow it down
Point your toes again

Smile,...

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A tire swing hanging from a willow tree
barely swaying to and fro
my small feet sweep
and kick up dirt 
on the ground beneath and below.
                     ...

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OLD GARDEN SWING 


Oh, recollection is 
such a powerful thing 
I think of us together 
on this old garden swing 

Our love was birthed 
when we first danced 
You were my music 
we were so entranced 

That first touch 
and we couldn't let go 
It...

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Who says I’m getting old?
My hairs are not gray
Its beautiful sterling silver
The finest silver around
Who says I’m getting old?
My face isn’t bright red
I’m not having hot flashes
I just have constant sunburn
I love the outdoor
Who say’s I’m getting old?
Not me I’m as young as I feel
Tennis...

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It was really a simple thing
Four chains holding a large plank 
Suspended from the ceiling
A big blue swing

Summer at its peak
Heat touching 45 degrees
Cousins all crammed up 
On a large blue swing

Listening to granny’s stories
The distant fan slowly whirring
Laughing and giggling at nothing 
On a...

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the empty swing
still moving to and fro...
cry of a child




© kash poet
===============...

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Quiet and still now.
The swing occasionally catches the air.
The tire never moves. 
There’s no one there to care.
The jungle gym beside it is played with by squirrels.
The sand box below holds creatures quiet and shy.
Tiny plastic men are lost in the sand deep below.
A metal...

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Hello midnight hour 
It is I again
I’ve come to you in restless mood 
I’m not tired 
Nor am I sleepy
But here I be 
In sleepless mood

I fear not the darkness 
But I dare not close my eyes
I hear loudly the thoughts in my head
But I...

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By Valerie D. Staton


Down a long winding road there lived Old Betty Ann
In an old wooden house, the color of sand

Her home was surrounded by gardens and trees
And wind chimes that sung with the stir of a breeze

Most days Betty Ann could be found on...

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Dark eyes shine,
reflecting trees and skies
as they fly by.

Small hands hold on as,
with each kick of her bare legs,
she inches ever higher.

At the apex of her arc
she hangs for a moment,
weightless, 
suspended between 
Earth’s gravity and
release....

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Is it still there, swaying in the
Chicago air?
I dream of myself with dark,
ribboned braids, being just seven.
And swinging my tanned legs as
hard as I Could,,trying to kiss God's 
cheek in heaven.

Oh to be seven again!
When free speech reigned.
Girls had cap guns and trains.
We played games...

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The Swing

Under this canopy of green,
The arms of this swing gleam,
Rocking gently to and fro,
As the magic courses through,
This swing of life,
Rocking through pain and strife,
Like others has to too,
Come to a halt though,
It swings high and low,
As the winds of happiness blow,
But beware of...

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The grass
alas
is shorn
like corn
the dew
eschews
forlorn
this morn

the crowd
avowed
the ball
and all
then groans 
and moans
clubs thrown
are known.

Embued
and hued
the words
like swords
wrong swing
the sting
bad lie
too high

the squeeze
on knees
in pleas?
to seize
the gold
and hold
glory
story

though droll
their goal 
control
cajole
that ball
to fall
or roll
in hole

August 22,2022
For Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest
FIRST PLACE TROPhy!
POEM OF THE WEEK!...

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Sworn to secrecy, she told me it had been a long time..
as we sat swinging in a hammock in the late day sun.

'What., are you sayin' you never did it?'

I thought what my mom would do if she caught me, and replied
'brought up different I...

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No one to play with, what to do?
Shall I sit down to sulk and rue?
Shall I stand up and cry aloud?
Shall I go jogging midst the crowd?
Or shall I walk down to the zoo?

Well, let me think of what to do,
My swing - the best...

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