on a swing set i swing and never think of what will happen next, every step i take my life is swinging out of wack maybe someday my world will swing back to regular. I step on a swing and see my whole world as everyone sees it at the top. i dont know anything else i take a swing at things
There was a swing that swung all by itself. It was lonely for the children that once would ride on it. The shrieks of its rusty chains seemed to echo their shouts of joy as it threw them into the air and made their lives a little more fun. But then they grew up and left and didn’t care about extending the same courtesy to the swing itself. But why worry? It would disintegrate into nothing soon enough.
I would swing.
Like a doll
In a tiny swing
Someone else’s toy to play with,
Someone else’s gift.
When would I be able to get off?
when would I be able to be my own?
I was just being pushed.
I was just a doll.
Thats how
I would swing.
dancing, it’s a type of dancing…..a guy an a girl, the guy swings the girl around, she is wearing a flouncy dress
monkey swinging from tree to tree
kids playing in a playground
like a swingset
up and down
round and round
the world goes round
evolving on an axis
go round and round and round
almost at the top
and you fall
almost at the top
and you fall
until you learn how to let go <3
“Swing!” She shouted, and all the dancers in the room shook off the bonds of elegance they had been wearing. Shivering into new motion, they twirled and jived, smiles sinking from formal poise to real coy grins, like a violin discovering it’s really a fiddle.
The children in the yard were tantalized by the swaying swing ever so high in the flowing Oak. They bounced and giggled as the tried ever-so-hard to grab ahold and ride it. They tried lifting each other, they tried running toward it and leaping, they tried standing on things. Nothing worked.
One of my fondest memories brings me back to a time where a climbing frame could be a castle, and a swing could be a portal to another dimension. I miss those days, the days where I could feel infinite just because I climbed the biggest hill or where I waded through the strongest stream.
Swing of things. Swing dancing. Old time music and bobbie socks and two tone shoes. Kicking and flipping and sliding across a wood floor smoothed from years of use. Shuffling and stamping and tapping away…
The wooden porch swing squeaked as it slowly swung back and forth. Amy leaned her head on John’s shoulder, feeling drowsy. The air was hot and the cicadas sang.
The creak of the old wood echoes out into the dark night. I tuck my cold bare feet underneath me, my loose skirt flowing off the porch swing I dangle precariously on. My thoughts drift as I focus on the obscure shapes in front of my eyes, they move ever so closer. Closer.
and roundabouts, ding a ling ling, weee, I can’t believe how fun this is! Higher higher faster, trumpets trombones make the word jive…. I really don’t get what this is, is it word association? Keys in the ashtray kind a thing?
I moved back and forth on the swing gently, digging the toe of my shoe into the gravel that covered the playground. The moon was bright, and it the air smelled like summer.
im swinging back and forth just like harry potter on the fifth move. i feel the magic inside me. i wish i had brought my wand. my life is going in full swing because im datin niall horan. he loves me, and i love him. i want to be an actress and musician but i suck at it
I’ve always fancied being good at dancing swing. But as I have no rythm to speak of and probably to scared to try, it’s only ever been a flight of fancy while listening to Sway.
I can see you there, locked up in your mind
you are a shell
sitting on a swing
going through the motions
grieving
for your lost youth, your lost love
who is laying six feet under
pray tell, where is your narcissism now.
old beauty?
Swings are great source of children’s entertainment. They are also very relaxing for adults. There are a wide variety of swings that vary in size and shape.
Swing…. A swingset to sit and swing, to completely forget about the world underneath you. Nobody except you knows how high you’ve swung or what you think about while swinging your cares away.
It was never my intent to break my head on a small horse attached to a spring. But when I was 7, that’s what I did when I was on a swingset. Now, I walk with a limp and stutter.
I was twelve years old when I got on my first swing. It had a wooden bottom and chains to hold it to the tree. I am now 25 years old. But the tree still sits there, swinging in the breeze…..
Makes me think about this chick that always used to take up a swing at clark park and I ended up hooking up with her brother. On my birthday. How interesting right?
i used to love to swing in the backyard of our old house. It was the most precious little swing ever! the way the sun shone on my face and the wind in my hair i used to absolutely enjoy it! also what comes to mind is the genre of music “swing”. I absolutely love anything jazz or blues oriented.
I used to love the swing at recess. Me and my friends would compete to see who could go the highest. When we went at the same time we would yell silly things like “get out of my bathroom!” Now I look back and wonder where we even heard that. It was always so much fun to see who was most daring. We would see could jump from the highest point. We would then get in trouble with the teachers. The swing was a big part of my life back then.
She sat there, swaying ever so slightly. The entire swing-set shook with the swift autumn breeze. Her mind still wondered, on a path it had traveled only once before. It was getting dark and cold, but she wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. Instead, she stood up and walked the opposite way.
omg i love swings they like move
swing swing
once i fell off one
ouch
omg there were yellow swings in my old school
i hate yellow
i like pink
no purple
no actual green
I love the swings!
They were always my favourite part about the park. they are just so fun. you feel free. like a bird. and wondrous. I fell off once, when i was young, and broke my arm. It was an awful experience but somehow I still love to swing!
I liked to swing when I was younger. The playground and recess was my favorite part of school. Swinging and jumping off in to the cool sand. So many memories.
The old swing creaked in the wind. Years had passed, decades even, and still it remained. It taunted her, it’s faded yellow paint a reminder of how things had once been, of how brightly and hopefully she had thought of the world then. Oh, how things have changed . . .
i was swinging in the swings in the park. i was having so much fun. i met my friend there. we swung until we couldnt swing anymore. i will always swing at a park.
The tire swing hung from the lowest branch of the large oak in our back yard. It looked a little lonely these days, since the children have all grown up and no one played on it any more.
And from the swing she soared. Her body tumbling as if the wind itself caressed it AS she hit the ground the swing continued to swing, now free of the weight and burden that was her. Just swing, just be, just live. Walking away the little girl looked back what had caused her great joy.
on a swing set i swing and never think of what will happen next, every step i take my life is swinging out of wack maybe someday my world will swing back to regular. I step on a swing and see my whole world as everyone sees it at the top. i dont know anything else i take a swing at things
There was a swing that swung all by itself. It was lonely for the children that once would ride on it. The shrieks of its rusty chains seemed to echo their shouts of joy as it threw them into the air and made their lives a little more fun. But then they grew up and left and didn’t care about extending the same courtesy to the swing itself. But why worry? It would disintegrate into nothing soon enough.
dancing, a type of dance, with a man and a woman, the man twirls the woman around,
I would swing.
Like a doll
In a tiny swing
Someone else’s toy to play with,
Someone else’s gift.
When would I be able to get off?
when would I be able to be my own?
I was just being pushed.
I was just a doll.
Thats how
I would swing.
dancing, it’s a type of dancing…..a guy an a girl, the guy swings the girl around, she is wearing a flouncy dress
monkey swinging from tree to tree
kids playing in a playground
like a swingset
up and down
round and round
the world goes round
evolving on an axis
go round and round and round
almost at the top
and you fall
almost at the top
and you fall
until you learn how to let go <3
“Swing!” She shouted, and all the dancers in the room shook off the bonds of elegance they had been wearing. Shivering into new motion, they twirled and jived, smiles sinking from formal poise to real coy grins, like a violin discovering it’s really a fiddle.
The children in the yard were tantalized by the swaying swing ever so high in the flowing Oak. They bounced and giggled as the tried ever-so-hard to grab ahold and ride it. They tried lifting each other, they tried running toward it and leaping, they tried standing on things. Nothing worked.
One of my fondest memories brings me back to a time where a climbing frame could be a castle, and a swing could be a portal to another dimension. I miss those days, the days where I could feel infinite just because I climbed the biggest hill or where I waded through the strongest stream.
Swing of things. Swing dancing. Old time music and bobbie socks and two tone shoes. Kicking and flipping and sliding across a wood floor smoothed from years of use. Shuffling and stamping and tapping away…
The swing set was rusted now, the ropes all frayed. The children’s laughter that fluttered through breeze a distance memory.
The wooden porch swing squeaked as it slowly swung back and forth. Amy leaned her head on John’s shoulder, feeling drowsy. The air was hot and the cicadas sang.
The creak of the old wood echoes out into the dark night. I tuck my cold bare feet underneath me, my loose skirt flowing off the porch swing I dangle precariously on. My thoughts drift as I focus on the obscure shapes in front of my eyes, they move ever so closer. Closer.
and roundabouts, ding a ling ling, weee, I can’t believe how fun this is! Higher higher faster, trumpets trombones make the word jive…. I really don’t get what this is, is it word association? Keys in the ashtray kind a thing?
I moved back and forth on the swing gently, digging the toe of my shoe into the gravel that covered the playground. The moon was bright, and it the air smelled like summer.
Swing…….Kick off Pull on the chains will your body to the stars higher…higher…for a moment suspended in the sky whoosh back down fall and rise
The swing is ready to be swung on.
I love to swing dance.
Swinging in the park is so much fun.
im swinging back and forth just like harry potter on the fifth move. i feel the magic inside me. i wish i had brought my wand. my life is going in full swing because im datin niall horan. he loves me, and i love him. i want to be an actress and musician but i suck at it
I’ve always fancied being good at dancing swing. But as I have no rythm to speak of and probably to scared to try, it’s only ever been a flight of fancy while listening to Sway.
I can see you there, locked up in your mind
you are a shell
sitting on a swing
going through the motions
grieving
for your lost youth, your lost love
who is laying six feet under
pray tell, where is your narcissism now.
old beauty?
Swings are great source of children’s entertainment. They are also very relaxing for adults. There are a wide variety of swings that vary in size and shape.
Swing…. A swingset to sit and swing, to completely forget about the world underneath you. Nobody except you knows how high you’ve swung or what you think about while swinging your cares away.
It was never my intent to break my head on a small horse attached to a spring. But when I was 7, that’s what I did when I was on a swingset. Now, I walk with a limp and stutter.
SWING with a baseball bat. Swing and miss. 1 syllable word. Ends with an ING. Random word. Weird word if you don’t speak English.
I was twelve years old when I got on my first swing. It had a wooden bottom and chains to hold it to the tree. I am now 25 years old. But the tree still sits there, swinging in the breeze…..
Makes me think about this chick that always used to take up a swing at clark park and I ended up hooking up with her brother. On my birthday. How interesting right?
A sword swung past him, and Drake ducked to avoid the weapon that would have decapitated him. He parried, bringing his sword up to meet the challenge.
“Drake!” called out Selena, “Hurry up!! The others already got through!”
“I’m coming!” he cried, simultaneously blocking and running.
“DRAKE!” screamed Gwen, her voice thick with concern. “RUN!”
i used to love to swing in the backyard of our old house. It was the most precious little swing ever! the way the sun shone on my face and the wind in my hair i used to absolutely enjoy it! also what comes to mind is the genre of music “swing”. I absolutely love anything jazz or blues oriented.
I used to love the swing at recess. Me and my friends would compete to see who could go the highest. When we went at the same time we would yell silly things like “get out of my bathroom!” Now I look back and wonder where we even heard that. It was always so much fun to see who was most daring. We would see could jump from the highest point. We would then get in trouble with the teachers. The swing was a big part of my life back then.
She sat there, swaying ever so slightly. The entire swing-set shook with the swift autumn breeze. Her mind still wondered, on a path it had traveled only once before. It was getting dark and cold, but she wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. Instead, she stood up and walked the opposite way.
omg i love swings they like move
swing swing
once i fell off one
ouch
omg there were yellow swings in my old school
i hate yellow
i like pink
no purple
no actual green
hi so idk what to write hi lol omg sooo i am Sarah ugg i hate being timed. Waching CSI lalal soooo de de do round and round so I am so
Swing dancing. Swing sets. A constant, fluid movement.
Swing Swing,
Swing high,
Swing low.
I love the swings,
makes my mind go WHEE.
The wind in my hair,
the sun in my eyes,
it’s exhilarating.
Beautiful.
I love the swings!
They were always my favourite part about the park. they are just so fun. you feel free. like a bird. and wondrous. I fell off once, when i was young, and broke my arm. It was an awful experience but somehow I still love to swing!
I liked to swing when I was younger. The playground and recess was my favorite part of school. Swinging and jumping off in to the cool sand. So many memories.
The old swing creaked in the wind. Years had passed, decades even, and still it remained. It taunted her, it’s faded yellow paint a reminder of how things had once been, of how brightly and hopefully she had thought of the world then. Oh, how things have changed . . .
i was swinging in the swings in the park. i was having so much fun. i met my friend there. we swung until we couldnt swing anymore. i will always swing at a park.
The tire swing hung from the lowest branch of the large oak in our back yard. It looked a little lonely these days, since the children have all grown up and no one played on it any more.
And from the swing she soared. Her body tumbling as if the wind itself caressed it AS she hit the ground the swing continued to swing, now free of the weight and burden that was her. Just swing, just be, just live. Walking away the little girl looked back what had caused her great joy.