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A Bag of Jacks

In place upon the pavement and sun upon my back
Within my hand there jangles a little bag of jacks
Along with friends to watch or even have a play
The little bag is opened, the jacks are disarrayed
All eyes are cast upon their pattern on the ground 
A little rubber ball within the flimsy bag is found
And the game begins when the rubber ball is bounced
Then rapid grab to pick up jacks and after do a count
Deft is the hand that gets the jacks as well as catch the ball
The winner is the one who’s first to get them all
And many an hour was spent playing this same old game
And better came the catching with a happiness inflamed
Under the warming sun of summer upon the dusty path
Just a little bag of treasure with which to have a laugh
Now distant memories etched in the fuzzy lapse of time
When the age of childhood pleasure was firmly in its prime

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