Good Ole Days

The Good Ole Days

Grilling hotdogs in the backyard,
Relaxing on a tree tire swing.
Listening to Conway Twitty on the radio,
Hearing daddy trying to sing.

Picking daisies for mommy’s birthday,
Catching grasshoppers in a jar.
Running barefoot in the grass,
Watching Billy practice on the guitar.

Flying kites and playing football,
Having fun just being a kid.
Playing hide-go-seek in the daytime,
Wondering where Missy hid.

Sunday picnics in the springtime,
Hear the laughter fill the air.
Thinking back to long ago,
When I didn’t have a care.

The good ole days is what I call them,
How I wish I could go back again.
When life was just so much simpler,
And worries were lost to the wind.

Back to when families stayed together,
Receiving hugs was common place.
When people were just much happier,
You could see in on their face.

I sit and remember it over coffee,
Now that the time has gone by.
Those were the best days of my life,
As a tear fills my eye.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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