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Personal Note:

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Poem

I must be getting older now;
not always fond of walking in the rain.
I used to love to puddle jump;
only my youngest knew me not insane.
In pouring rain, we’d run the trails,
find all the largest water spots to stomp.
We’d giggle when we spied a hole,
and race to see who’d be the first to romp.
These days, I still go out at times;
my Missy needs her breaks in the outdoors.
But when it rains, she’s only there
to find relief and not a moment more.
Still, there are days when I revert
to habits from my youthful days of old;
Stroll through the wood, so clean and fresh,
too overwhelmed by beauty to be cold.
Besides, a towel, a cuppa joe,
the world is back to “normal” once again,
But just before I come inside,
I splash that one last puddle with a grin.

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