Country Lane
I peer back thro' the mists of time and view a country lane,
That meanders thro' the woods and across the Hoosier plain.
I see a country lad in overalls and floppy hat of straw,
Ambling along barefoot, marveling at everything he saw!
His faithful pal, Spooks, trots ahead of him a few paces,
Scaring up rabbits and other critters, after them he races!
He drags a stick in the dust and whistles a tuneless strain,
With not a care on earth as he saunters down the lane.
He pauses to skip stones across the shimmering pond,
Startling a flock of geese who at him scoldingly respond!
He stoops to study a hill of busy ants scurrying about;
Old Spooks became curious too and was bitten on his snout!
Boy and dog slake their thirst in the clear, rippling "crick."
He pesters an old snapping turtle with his walking stick!
The lane passes thro' billowing seas of wheat on the plain.
He crushes a few awns twixt his palms for a snack of grain.
Anon, they seek respite from the casual summer stroll,
And they both lie down upon a nearby grassy knoll.
He, gazing at the vagabond clouds, building castles in the air.
Ah! Blissful youth and carefree days! Nothing can compare!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
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