The Florida of My Youth

The Florida of My Youth By Franklin Price 10/12/2019 The Florida of long ago The one when I was born Was the one that I remember And the one for which I mourn Was a simple life back then Merritt Island was my home My youth was spent exploring Through the orange groves I would roam My dad worked for the Navy Soon to be an Air Force Base My mother was a housewife Was long before we went to space My father had converted A tractor barn into a house It was the place in which we lived Sometimes shared it with a mouse That did not come from Disney If that's maybe what you thought There was no magic kingdom No “E” tickets could be bought The milkman brought the bottles With the cream trapped at the top Had to shake it first to use it Then remove the cardboard stop The rooster crowed to wake us up There were layers in the coop The eggs were there collected While avoiding chicken poop Beside the coop a wash house Where our clothes were washed and rung In the yard were lines to dry them They were pinned and not just flung The ocean breezes dried them To provde a smell good sheet The fresh air not polluted My childhood days could not be beat There was no trash collection No large mountains of discard We dug some holes to bury waste That we covered in our yard Once we dug a large hole Which we turned into a fort Made the roof out of a car top Was a fun place to report When we were finished with it It became our newest dump Did I forget to mention, Our water came from well and pump Our waste went to a septic tank Waste field to cleanse and drain My sisters preferred to wash their hair With water captured from the rain Only one school was available Had a place for every grade We rode the bus to get there To go, I never was afraid I was the youngest of the children Four sisters and three guys Got on the bus together Even school had family ties To get there left the Island Had to cross a wooden bridge One more thing that I should tell you We had no ice box, had a fridge I could go on forever About my early childhood time When discipline was rendered And there was very little crime You can tell I am digressing As the past flows through my brain Maybe next time I will tell you Of my travels on the train