The Good Old Days
It was a crisp fall November weekend,
We had gotten up early that morning
A frantic rush, buzzing to go camping.
We'd packed the night before, tired by the end.
My parents briskly loaded the luggage
In the station wagon, then we'd piled in.
Tickled, Ember our lab would lick my chin.
She was very playful, but average.
Tents were set up and a campfire blazing
Overlooking the clear lake and mountain.
We would hike nature trails we were certain
Were safe and waded in the lake fishing.
Our campfire shed a yielding glowing light
That filled the night air with the scent of smoke
And lingering forest pine and silage oak.
Sky a stage of dancing stars through the night.
I think back to all the favorite times
While young, not knowing how the lord lead my
Sight, to see His love in nature, and sky
With family in the fall leisure pastimes.
1/11/2021
The Good Old Days Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
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