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