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The Old Covered Bridge

When I was ten I got a bike one Christmas I learned to ride that morning, though the snow was several inches on the ground Though the gravel road was hard to ride, it was straight and full of silence; And me and my new bike were instant friends; I knew that somewhere down that road we'd find the old covered bridge... It was long & tall and stood so proud, for it carried many souls, My granddad helped to build it and I loved the tales he told, Back when roads were made for horses and a man revered his heritage, But he knew he'd met the future on the day they finished building the covered bridge. When I was fifteen or so, I'd watch the cars go by, The bridge would be my summer shade, I'd sit and drink ice lemonade And dream of moving cross country to the sea, But in my dream I'd come back to sit in the shade of that old bridge; Now my oldest boy is ten years old, city-born and city-raised, I took him on a trip to see some glimpses of his heritage, To sit with him and watch the fish swim by my old covered bridge... But when I looked and saw the new highway bridge that made my river seem just like a stream; My boy looked at me and told me, "Dad, I've never seen you cry before" I told him, "Son, my father used to tell me, 'you can't go back, so you've got to move on', And today I met the future when I saw that my old covered bridge was gone" So we just quietly drove home We just quietly drove home. You can hear this poem on Mystic Rose's "Stories To Tell": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmgJWrMuKpk

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 5/17/2020 8:18:00 PM
so glad to see this one was a win for you. Mine did not make that list! I really love this, John. Sorry I do not have time to hear it being read. I still have not made dinner or exercised. RATS! My computer was out for an hour getting printer restored again by Geek Squad! I sit here with my mouth so YUK and thinking of what injections did to me and what they are doing now to many of our young. I want to cry. I even mentioned it in my blog. I feel so frustrated sometimes. Bye now.
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John Watt
Date: 5/17/2020 10:21:00 PM
Going over to read your blog now. I'm so sorry you're having more mouth issues and printer problems today. God bless you, my dear friend.
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John Watt
Date: 5/17/2020 10:17:00 PM
Andrea, you have been my longest and most consistent encouragement warrior! I am so blessed by the inspiration I derive from reading your wonderful poetry and your warm comments. Reading through my poems has meant more to me than you'll ever know. Thank you ~ John
Date: 2/18/2020 11:12:00 AM
John, Why do we think we can always do better by destroying the past and replacing it with something shiny and new instead of thinking of ways to preserve it. Covered bridges are treasures that are disappearing before our eyes. Thank you for this poem and congratulations!
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John Watt
Date: 5/17/2020 10:14:00 PM
I know, it's sad. I truly appreciate those souls who go to great lengths and fight great battles in order to preserve important elements of our history. Thanks for the close read and kind comment, Hugs ~ John
Date: 2/18/2020 5:44:00 AM
This is a sad and wonderful story of memories mixed with progress. Well written. Congratulations John. Yours in verse, Janis.
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John Watt
Date: 2/18/2020 11:07:00 AM
Thank you for this endearing comment, dear poetess ~ John
Date: 2/18/2020 5:20:00 AM
Ah, this is such a deep sad and poignant story, Congratulations on your win John. Will be sending you a soup mail soon . Have a great day. xo
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John Watt
Date: 2/18/2020 11:06:00 AM
Hi Pixie, I saw your soup mail and responded. I am honored at your kind words and congratulations. Have a wonderful day ~ John
Date: 2/18/2020 12:14:00 AM
Fantastic narration.. Old bridges are everywhere.. When it falls how many hearts are bleeding we don't know.. Great win John...
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John Watt
Date: 2/18/2020 11:05:00 AM
Jenish, thank you for sponsoring this contest and challenging us to attempt this interesting poetic form. I am humbled at your high ranking of my poem. Best wishes to you ~ John
Date: 1/22/2020 12:31:00 PM
I know how you feel. My parents moved to another state so it was many years later when I visited my old street. It was like walking into the future as your mind still sees the past. The road was broken up, in need of repair. I looked for the pond I would ice skate on. Finally I asked. The man told me yes kids used to be allowed on it but now his property is fenced in. Life is crazy! Nice poem. Fave!
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John Watt
Date: 1/22/2020 6:42:00 PM
Kim, thank you very much for the visit, the tale, and the fave. Nice to know I'm not alone in these thoughts ~ John
Date: 1/22/2020 3:47:00 AM
Sadly, we must change with the times, sometimes. But those memories we hold deep in our hearts. Remember, like you and your dad, your son might one day drive to that very spot with his son...and most likely think the same...and with his son, quickly drive home. Love this, John. Charlie
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John Watt
Date: 1/22/2020 6:39:00 PM
The beat goes on, one generation to the next. Thank you for the visit, Charles ~ John
Date: 1/22/2020 2:31:00 AM
This is whimsical, poignant and melancholy - all my favorite elements, and I enjoyed it very much, as it took me back as well. There is a covered bridge a few miles from me - it was a favorite place as a child, and then became a favorite fishing spot for my son and I, (tho' he's now almost 34 and in Cali) ... whenever he visits we go. The bridge was burned by a classmate of mine many years ago, but was rebuilt, the main structure salvaged, thankfully. The memories are the true treasure. Love it!
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John Watt
Date: 1/22/2020 6:38:00 PM
>>> "The memories are the true treasure." So true, my friend. Always grateful for pleasant memories and loved ones to share them with. Thanks for stopping by ~ John
Date: 1/21/2020 3:13:00 AM
Old bridges will go.. and new will come.. The memories attached to it will definitely haunt.. You succeed in conveying the emotions through this wonderful poem..
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John Watt
Date: 1/21/2020 12:19:00 PM
Jenish, the longer we spend on this journey called life, the more memories we accumulate; some will bless, some will haunt. Thank you for taking time to read this longer than average poem, and then leaving your thoughtful and much appreciated comment. ~ John