Sometimes we feel so all alone,
Everyone is so busy these days,
Growing older slows us down,
And we have to change our ways.
But when we think about other times,
Our memories bring on a smile,
We wonder where all the time went,
As we trudged that weary mile.
And then we remember Grandma,
With gray hair and old fashioned dress,
As she danced with my daddy,
At the Old Time Summer Fest.
And when I hear the sweet laughter,
When we played our childish games,
And Mama cooking our supper,
That gave her instant fame.
Oh, that good old summer time,
When we picked wild berries for Jam,
And Papa built the fire,
That smoked the bacon and the ham.
As these old memories flood back,
I become quite misty eye'd.
Those good old days are gone forever,
Occasionally I have cried.
We all knew about God and His Son,
Going to Church was a pleasure,
I am so thankful for those great days,
When love was a family treasure.
God plants a precious rose,
In the garden of our hearts,
And brings back sweet memories,
That will never again depart.
And as we get on with living,
Each day is written within,
Making more and more sweet memories,
For a joyous future grin.
~ Eva May Young ~
It gives me a warm feeling in my heart to write poetry. I am a "Golden Ager" shut-in and writing keeps my mind busy with something I've done ever since I was a child, and it's my way of sharing our LORD with who ever comes to visit. Thanks for reading my poetry - I'd love to hear your comments. May God richly bless you. Send emails to: EvaYoung @ SkyWriting.Net
[ by: Eva May Young Copyright © 2006 ( EvaYoung @ SkyWriting.Net ) -- submitted by Eva Young ]
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