Senses of My Summer Play

Written by: Mark Goodson

I have swept the sidewalk and watered the flowers- the yard is perfect you see
Afforded the time to swing in the rocker and drink southern sweet tea
As I sip from my favorite old fruit jar- a steady northern breeze accommodates
 My thoughts wonders back to recall the best remembered days-
 of youthful summer s gone by 
What precious memories to an old man like me- whose senses have dulled – now denied
I gladly endure and believe in the best of cures- the wonders and joys of youthful age
So I will tell you heartedly what cannot be forgotten- senses of my summer youthful play
The sting of my palm while playing catch with my older brother-
 who died when I was thirteen 
Or the flicker of lighting bugs caught in a Mason fruit jar –imaginative fairy queens 
A croaking daddy bullfrog while fishing on Pine Lake – just Tom, Dad and me
The earthy aroma of freshly cut grass before playing ball at the little league
The sweet watery meat of a stolen watermelon-the farmer knew it was me
A dip in Pear Creek wearing nothing at all- with a summer’s kiss from Mary Ann-
- when I was fifteen
Playing pirates and Tarzan in the back yard- under the laughing- weeping willow tree
Or the July Ozark Mountain visits to grandmother’s house - I still believe she loved best- only me
The carefree rides- wind in my face- on my new Schwinn bike with my best bud Steve
The mournful tears as I watched Old Yeller- when I thought I was too old to cry
I will stop for now- there are reddish clouds with filtered flashlight beams filling a dusking night
For it’s time to eat my bread and wash for bed- I hope my dear wife will not be snoring tonight