My Dear Old Friend
Walking thru the door,
Looking on the floor,
I see my old pair of boots,
That I named Jack,
Like a old family friend,
Good times great times.
So long ago.
Missing you.
Worn soles.
Tongue wagging.
Strings loosely hanging.
Wanting to go out,
Like so many times before.
I smile.
I think it's time my friend,
We do need some time,
When life was grand.
Breathing the mountain air,
Smelling the pine,
Then we reach the top of the hill.
Looking down into the valley,
Literally taking my breath away.
Yes old friend, I do remember.
Thanks for bringing us back,
For some good memories, Jack.
Copyright © Shirley Hudson | Year Posted 2023
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