As old age upon us descends,
we view the past through rosy lens.
It seems to us that bygone days
were far better in many ways.
The memories of better times
help us cope when life serves up limes.
They give us hope that better days
will soon return, like Dawn’s bright rays.
But dreaming of the good old days
can cause us to live in a daze
and rob us of the good in life
that abounds amidst its strifes.
The good old days had their fair share
of heartache, trouble, strife, and care.
The present times, in many ways,
are better than the good old days.
Treasure the good from bygone days
Let them inform your present ways
So, you can reap the very best,
As you progress in your life quest.
these signs of the times
I see everywhere I walk
I can’t understand
why I’m chased off of the block
why segregated we stand
inspired by Norman Rockwell's “The Problem We All Live With (Ruby Bridges)” 1964. symbolizing the struggle for civil rights and school desegregation in the United States
ran down grassy slopes
looking for bleating lambs
chasing butterflies~
our world buoyant like bubbles
high up, dazzling rainbow hues.
Your access denied.
Tick: I am not a robot.
A system outage,
remember the good old days,
when pen and paper would do.
hand in hand they sew
making quilts for each grandchild
crafty needle work
I see that winter has now broken,
steam fills each word, as they are spoken.
Cold air seems to fill the room,
as the stuck in side, brings on its doom.
The land is now covered with snow, and ice,
to go outside, we better think twice.
Slipping and sliding, as we bite the dust,
landing so hard, our rumps we bust.
I haven’t built a snow man, or ridden a sled, in years,
I haven’t had a snow ball fight, being in good cheer.
Now I am old, but I still remember the good times you see,
they will always have their part with me.
Be careful of the snow thats yellow,
cause it belongs to another fellow.
I can still make snow angels,
while I’m flopping around,
might as well do something, instead of laying on the ground.
When I finally, get back up to my feet,
I take two steps, and myself I repeat.
I sure do make a lot of snow angels you see,
once I fall down, the rest is all left to me.
Share our big happies,
You are best of chappies,
Having spirited love,
Blesses our daily dove....
Laughing fun smiles,
Your charm still beguiles,
Trade future today,
In our favourite way....
Yes, happy dance,
Always our romance,
Blissful love haze,
Happy good old days!
Bouncing off a trampoline
Anton Dvorak fell on his head ~
A ‘cancelled Czech’
Poor Anton was dead
Long ago, in the 1600’s
Native Americans were not so financial...
Sold Manhattan for 24 bucks
A transaction they wish they could cancel
Regard " Those Good Old Days?'
Bring smiles in own ways,
Writing a book, Any Excuse,
Need my GSOH a'loose.
Went to football in past stage,
Good book, turn each page,
"The umpire's a cheat!"
"Yep, our goals incomplete!"
"Game plan's still the same!"
"Yes, our coach is to blame!"
"Let's go home!"
"Yeah, home we'll roam!"
"Leaving already?" Crowd roar,
"Spit the dummy, game's a bore!"
"See you next week!"
"At next game we'll peek,
Smiling now, I hit the sack,
Ignore football, top lifehack,
Well, that was a long book,
"Those Good Old Days, worth a sook!
Then, the Good Old Days
Better than what’s now, always
This law, all obeys
When, in good times past
Bygones better, Everlast
Nows always surpassed
And, back further still
Even better then, until
The best be all's it’ll
But, this trend is woe
Each past better than then's now
Life keeps getting worse
‘Till, the Now-a-Days
At the bottom of the hill
Things aren't looking up
No, they’re not and won’t
All generations to come
The next Kids Today
Spending a day making donuts with Grandma
I am yet to have the good old days
It has just been just wishes of death
To give me one big rest
When I have money
I am way too drunk
When I am poor
I am way too sad
In the Good Old Days
I had dreams of the better days
Tommorrow never came
Today never set
yesterday never stayed.
I hope these are not my good old days
I am still on my old ways
Getting lost in my dreams
I cant find a real place
If it downhill from here
Id rather death steaal me away
Nothing rivaled the lemonade in Georgia.
Now, you could also find some damn good lemonade in the neighboring state of South Carolina. Virginians liked to think they too made fine lemonade, and it was better than anything north of the Potomac.
But the best was in Georgia.
And people in the good old days really did drink their lemonade on a lazy, late summer afternoon on the front porch of their wooden house as their kindly old dog, usually a Labrador or a golden retriever, lay down by their feet.
It happened exactly like that.
Just the way you’ve always pictured it.
The boys at the school were constipated
So the nurse lined them up and gave them cod liver oil
Some tried to escape, but she was mighty
And she had nurse’s aides who dragged them back by their ears
The good old days when you could do such things
Whatever happened to the good old days,
when your phone would ring
and people called, just to say hello.
When the days seemed longer
and the work hours shorter ,
when laughter was heard from your neighbors
porch and there was always coffee on;
Whatever happened to the good old days,
when children would play outdoors
and we always made time for each other.
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