Swing. hips swinging to the music. bam bam bam. Then i went to the park and saw my favorite childhood memory. THE SWING. I sat on it and whoosh, I felt the adrenaline as though I was a child again. It was exhilarating.
I was 8 years old as Kristen and I glided on the swings in the Dead Road playground. Our laughter was the only thing we could hear until we heard a scream from away. It was Justin. He was hurt. He was crying and he was hurt. We ran our little feet towards the boy. Kristen was in tears. She admitted that day that she didn’t want to see Justin hurt, because she loved him. Kristen loved Justin and you don’t want the people you love to hurt.
I like to swing. I used to swing all the time, so much than I couldvfeelnthecswinging motion while going to sleep. Bonnie use to ride the horse swing every day at school
swing dancing is an amazing thing to learn how to do. It is fun, gets you active, and is a great skill that will impress people once they know that you know how to do it.
Also there are swing doors that may hit you in the face if you dance into them and there is a swing vote that may effect the people who are running in an election and there are always swingers that sleep with many different people and that is all i can think of to do with swinging…also going on a set of swings, baby swings and tire swings if you have the chance.
dancing…the flowing skirts flare wildly around the legs of young, sweaty women full of laughter. The men, eyes glazed over, keep desperately to the time, take turns staring at their partner’s skirts, their own hands, and oh so occasionally, the face of their partner.
Let´s swing. If you don´t swing once in a while, you won´t enjoy the most delightful things in life. Swing is the only way we have to make our life different and better.
I don’t remember the last time I swung on a swing, but it must have been fun, because I have so many fond memories on swings. They almost always make me feel like I’m flying.
I was 8 years old as Kristen and I glided on the swings in the Dead Road playground. Our laughter was the only thing we could hear until we heard a scream from away. It was Justin. He was hurt. He was crying and he was hurt. We ran our little feet towards the boy. Kristen was in tears. She admitted that day that she didn’t want to see Justin hurt, because she loved him. Kristen loved Justin and you don’t want the people you love to hurt.
I sit on a swing when i feel lonely. i don’t know what it is about it that makes me feel better, maybe it just reminds me of a time when the biggest thing i had to worry about was how high i could swing.
so much fun, swinging in the sun, singing a song with my best friend in the summer. I love being able to see the lake from the swing, trying to get as high as possible. The tire swing was even more fun, cramming all three of us into it and swinging around in circles. I miss those days. I want to swing again! I got so dizzy all the time!
I owned a swingset when i was a kid once. it was given to my family by the neighbors up the street from us; their chldren had grown up and had gotten too old to play on it, and they didnt have children of their own. i loved that swingset; with its crackly pastel coloring and its creaky slide, it was a paradise outside of the only one i was accustomed to at school.
‘i didn’t realize.’
washed-over bathroom-wall graffiti & the dirt piled against one corner, lazy maid in a bachelor’s pad, and a man whose trashcan is full of used condoms & travel-sized mouthwash tubes, disposable toothbrushes, and inscripted along the uppermost edge of the bathroom door (she put back on her high heels, stood all your towels, folded over four times each) ‘i didn’t realize.’
I loved swings as a child, I still do. There is something romantic about them like a couple sitting on a swinging chair. They also remind me of the 90’s with movies like 10 Things I Hate About You and The Kiss Me music video. I don’t know, I guess swinging in the sunset just seems like the essence of relaxation.
up and down. up and down. the swing breaks- or in other words, I break. that shiny old blade came out again. I don’t know whether to feel regret or relief. all i know is that i feel like dying or at least running away. someone… save me..
i used to love swinging. i remember running out to recess in the fourth and fifth grades and heading straight for the swings. they were spectacular, just a few tall pipes welded together with chains and a pieces of rubber hanging from them. but they let us fly, a bunch of little kids suddenly had wings. what’s more beautiful than that?
its a thing made out of wood and chains and rubb ber that little kids, both boys and girls, like to ride on. By riding on it one kicks their legs forward and backward to create momentum. As momentum is created, the swinger goes higher and higher. Sometimes the swinger will then leap off of the swing, floating through the air like a badass dragon.
I first think of opposites. My 17 year old loved the swing when he was little. Slept in it for hours. My 4 year old despised it!!!! I myself, would absolutely love a swing to sleep in.
I am not a big fan of this word, since every time I try to log onto this site I get “swing” over and over and over. I suppose it is a decent word, but I came here to spur my creativity, and it seems to be stinted by this site’s lack of creativity in word choices.
She climbed on the swing warily. It had broken before but it was the one thing that stayed constant in her life. She wasn’t going to give up on it. She took a deep breath, and let herself go.
i can swing in my dreams, every place i go, the clouds of the sky, is like my big pool of ideas, and i just summerge in there refreshing my mind, creating new feelings and thinkings
I had a swingset in my back yard with two swings.
One was Red. One was Blue.
Red was a stallion who carried me to faraway lands.
Blue was a rocket-ship who showed me the stars.
I don’t see Red and Blue anymore.
But I’ve learned to take myself away.
And now I create my own stars.
I was swinging back and forth watching the world wiz by as I flew higher and higher into the air. The wind was rushing through my clothes and swishing various strands of hair each in their own separate whirlwind around my face. I sighed and attempted to shove the hair dangling in my face back in place before the wind forced it back; it was a battle I was destined to lose.
I could feel his shoulder pushing against the small of my back as I dug my toes into the dirt. “Don’t you dare!” I giggled but Thomas was relentless as he continued to shove me on the swing he whispered, “I’ll catch you darling.”
Swing, swing, swing! Let loose and just enjoy the rhythm. It’s bluesy and it’s hip. You’re a cool cat, Jameson. Swing the night away and let all of your troubles stay at the door. You can pick them up tomorrow. Swing, swing, and get lost in the rhythm of life.
John shifts in his sleep, turning over onto his left to let his right cool down. His dreams are erratic, that night, but not the horrifying, haunting images of war that usually occupy his REM. Tonight, they are bizarre and jumbled.
He and Sherlock are running through London, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until their feet are no longer touching the buildings, and John is just following right behind as he always does, not daring to look down at the city below them. They just barely miss the London Eye as Sherlock’s great belstaff coat spreads open in the wind, keeping them aloft.
John is brewing tea and trying to spread jam on three slices of toast at once, and Sherlock is standing over his shoulder, shouting at him, how he’s doing it wrong.
Suddenly, Sherlock backs away with a look of depressed horror in John’s general direction, “I never wanted to be a sociopath,” he starts, ripping off his suit jacket to reveal beneath it, not his tight purple shirt but plaid flannel- “I wanted to be… a lumberjack! Swinging from tree to tree!”
Then the two of them are young, John thinks in the back of his head about the word “regressed” as he chases a young scrawny boy with black curls shining in the sun, all around a playground and through the tube slides and over the monkey bars, pushing the swings aside with a rattling noise of the chains that wakes John from his fitful but not unpleasant dreams.
He sighs as he hits the button on the alarm, visions still swirling in his head of soaring through the night sky behind a Sherlock who could fly instead of just fall.
The boys were laughing as they jumped from the swing set. They were far too brave to swing like normal children. They only jumped from the top of the set. They laughed at Will. He was on the ground, crying. He was always crying it seemed. Some boys aren’t brave enough to face the uncertainty of such daring heights.
Your favorite swing that you would always go to in the park, The swing and you are like best friends. You go so high and jump. The underdogs were my favorite as a kid. My swing was yellow.
swing swing from the tables of my heart is crushed by a former love, can you help me find a way to carry on aagain things dancing through the sky i’m moving on i’ll keep you my dirty little secret, who has to know. don’t tell me that it’s over, i hope it gives you hell. p.s i love you forever and today. i’ll keep you my dirty little secret, who has to know. beef jerky in the pancakes. don’t get in the fernch womands face. hellz nah. i’m starving. boy seems cocky
Sitting on a swing in the backyard of my grandparents house was a mark of my youth. Once I reached 12 years old it broke though. As I sat on the ground with my leg aching, I knew my childhood was over.
I think about golf or sex. Maybe about a large mix of people all together. I think about balance, everything in its right place. The perfect touch at the perfect timing. Yeah.
Swing. hips swinging to the music. bam bam bam. Then i went to the park and saw my favorite childhood memory. THE SWING. I sat on it and whoosh, I felt the adrenaline as though I was a child again. It was exhilarating.
I was 8 years old as Kristen and I glided on the swings in the Dead Road playground. Our laughter was the only thing we could hear until we heard a scream from away. It was Justin. He was hurt. He was crying and he was hurt. We ran our little feet towards the boy. Kristen was in tears. She admitted that day that she didn’t want to see Justin hurt, because she loved him. Kristen loved Justin and you don’t want the people you love to hurt.
I like to swing. I used to swing all the time, so much than I couldvfeelnthecswinging motion while going to sleep. Bonnie use to ride the horse swing every day at school
swing dancing is an amazing thing to learn how to do. It is fun, gets you active, and is a great skill that will impress people once they know that you know how to do it.
Also there are swing doors that may hit you in the face if you dance into them and there is a swing vote that may effect the people who are running in an election and there are always swingers that sleep with many different people and that is all i can think of to do with swinging…also going on a set of swings, baby swings and tire swings if you have the chance.
dancing…the flowing skirts flare wildly around the legs of young, sweaty women full of laughter. The men, eyes glazed over, keep desperately to the time, take turns staring at their partner’s skirts, their own hands, and oh so occasionally, the face of their partner.
Let´s swing. If you don´t swing once in a while, you won´t enjoy the most delightful things in life. Swing is the only way we have to make our life different and better.
SWing towards anthing that gives you lift and lilt a nd tilt
I don’t remember the last time I swung on a swing, but it must have been fun, because I have so many fond memories on swings. They almost always make me feel like I’m flying.
I was 8 years old as Kristen and I glided on the swings in the Dead Road playground. Our laughter was the only thing we could hear until we heard a scream from away. It was Justin. He was hurt. He was crying and he was hurt. We ran our little feet towards the boy. Kristen was in tears. She admitted that day that she didn’t want to see Justin hurt, because she loved him. Kristen loved Justin and you don’t want the people you love to hurt.
I sit on a swing when i feel lonely. i don’t know what it is about it that makes me feel better, maybe it just reminds me of a time when the biggest thing i had to worry about was how high i could swing.
I like walking through the woods and seeing the thick hanging vines, that make a natural swing. You can actually sit and swing on them.
back and forth back and forth
being able to feel the breeze on my face
the hard wood under my seat
pumping to get higher and higher!
so much fun, swinging in the sun, singing a song with my best friend in the summer. I love being able to see the lake from the swing, trying to get as high as possible. The tire swing was even more fun, cramming all three of us into it and swinging around in circles. I miss those days. I want to swing again! I got so dizzy all the time!
I owned a swingset when i was a kid once. it was given to my family by the neighbors up the street from us; their chldren had grown up and had gotten too old to play on it, and they didnt have children of their own. i loved that swingset; with its crackly pastel coloring and its creaky slide, it was a paradise outside of the only one i was accustomed to at school.
‘i didn’t realize.’
washed-over bathroom-wall graffiti & the dirt piled against one corner, lazy maid in a bachelor’s pad, and a man whose trashcan is full of used condoms & travel-sized mouthwash tubes, disposable toothbrushes, and inscripted along the uppermost edge of the bathroom door (she put back on her high heels, stood all your towels, folded over four times each) ‘i didn’t realize.’
I loved swings as a child, I still do. There is something romantic about them like a couple sitting on a swinging chair. They also remind me of the 90’s with movies like 10 Things I Hate About You and The Kiss Me music video. I don’t know, I guess swinging in the sunset just seems like the essence of relaxation.
up and down. up and down. the swing breaks- or in other words, I break. that shiny old blade came out again. I don’t know whether to feel regret or relief. all i know is that i feel like dying or at least running away. someone… save me..
Don’t let go. Seems intuitive. Is it? Is that what we want? To not jump off?
Backyards gleaming in greens and swings swaying with ease.
i used to love swinging. i remember running out to recess in the fourth and fifth grades and heading straight for the swings. they were spectacular, just a few tall pipes welded together with chains and a pieces of rubber hanging from them. but they let us fly, a bunch of little kids suddenly had wings. what’s more beautiful than that?
its a thing made out of wood and chains and rubb ber that little kids, both boys and girls, like to ride on. By riding on it one kicks their legs forward and backward to create momentum. As momentum is created, the swinger goes higher and higher. Sometimes the swinger will then leap off of the swing, floating through the air like a badass dragon.
I first think of opposites. My 17 year old loved the swing when he was little. Slept in it for hours. My 4 year old despised it!!!! I myself, would absolutely love a swing to sleep in.
swing swing out on the moonlit floor. bare feet, under the string of white lights. it a happy night.
I am not a big fan of this word, since every time I try to log onto this site I get “swing” over and over and over. I suppose it is a decent word, but I came here to spur my creativity, and it seems to be stinted by this site’s lack of creativity in word choices.
playing outside high fast screaming laughing kids younger age child playground happy
She climbed on the swing warily. It had broken before but it was the one thing that stayed constant in her life. She wasn’t going to give up on it. She took a deep breath, and let herself go.
i can swing in my dreams, every place i go, the clouds of the sky, is like my big pool of ideas, and i just summerge in there refreshing my mind, creating new feelings and thinkings
I had a swingset in my back yard with two swings.
One was Red. One was Blue.
Red was a stallion who carried me to faraway lands.
Blue was a rocket-ship who showed me the stars.
I don’t see Red and Blue anymore.
But I’ve learned to take myself away.
And now I create my own stars.
summer days, children playing, parents pushing, sunny days, smiles of glee, swing sets are too small for me now.
I remember Clay pushing Maria
I was swinging back and forth watching the world wiz by as I flew higher and higher into the air. The wind was rushing through my clothes and swishing various strands of hair each in their own separate whirlwind around my face. I sighed and attempted to shove the hair dangling in my face back in place before the wind forced it back; it was a battle I was destined to lose.
I could feel his shoulder pushing against the small of my back as I dug my toes into the dirt. “Don’t you dare!” I giggled but Thomas was relentless as he continued to shove me on the swing he whispered, “I’ll catch you darling.”
Swing, swing, swing! Let loose and just enjoy the rhythm. It’s bluesy and it’s hip. You’re a cool cat, Jameson. Swing the night away and let all of your troubles stay at the door. You can pick them up tomorrow. Swing, swing, and get lost in the rhythm of life.
swing swang i swung with you. swing swang, will you swing too? I like to swing to feel the breeze. I have to swing or else I’ll sneeze.
John shifts in his sleep, turning over onto his left to let his right cool down. His dreams are erratic, that night, but not the horrifying, haunting images of war that usually occupy his REM. Tonight, they are bizarre and jumbled.
He and Sherlock are running through London, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until their feet are no longer touching the buildings, and John is just following right behind as he always does, not daring to look down at the city below them. They just barely miss the London Eye as Sherlock’s great belstaff coat spreads open in the wind, keeping them aloft.
John is brewing tea and trying to spread jam on three slices of toast at once, and Sherlock is standing over his shoulder, shouting at him, how he’s doing it wrong.
Suddenly, Sherlock backs away with a look of depressed horror in John’s general direction, “I never wanted to be a sociopath,” he starts, ripping off his suit jacket to reveal beneath it, not his tight purple shirt but plaid flannel- “I wanted to be… a lumberjack! Swinging from tree to tree!”
Then the two of them are young, John thinks in the back of his head about the word “regressed” as he chases a young scrawny boy with black curls shining in the sun, all around a playground and through the tube slides and over the monkey bars, pushing the swings aside with a rattling noise of the chains that wakes John from his fitful but not unpleasant dreams.
He sighs as he hits the button on the alarm, visions still swirling in his head of soaring through the night sky behind a Sherlock who could fly instead of just fall.
back and forth…the rocking motion is putting me to sleep… a slow peaceful rocking sleep
The boys were laughing as they jumped from the swing set. They were far too brave to swing like normal children. They only jumped from the top of the set. They laughed at Will. He was on the ground, crying. He was always crying it seemed. Some boys aren’t brave enough to face the uncertainty of such daring heights.
Your favorite swing that you would always go to in the park, The swing and you are like best friends. You go so high and jump. The underdogs were my favorite as a kid. My swing was yellow.
swing swing from the tables of my heart is crushed by a former love, can you help me find a way to carry on aagain things dancing through the sky i’m moving on i’ll keep you my dirty little secret, who has to know. don’t tell me that it’s over, i hope it gives you hell. p.s i love you forever and today. i’ll keep you my dirty little secret, who has to know. beef jerky in the pancakes. don’t get in the fernch womands face. hellz nah. i’m starving. boy seems cocky
Sitting on a swing in the backyard of my grandparents house was a mark of my youth. Once I reached 12 years old it broke though. As I sat on the ground with my leg aching, I knew my childhood was over.
I think about golf or sex. Maybe about a large mix of people all together. I think about balance, everything in its right place. The perfect touch at the perfect timing. Yeah.