Saturday, November 26, 2011

Good Old Days #2


I recall that day
A blue-eyed promise
Called summer

The good old days are good
Because the mind has the ability
To forget the bad

Once, I told my dad
I wished we still lived
In the good old days,
He replied, ‘well, here is a pail
The creek is just beyond the hill,
But you better take something to break the ice’...

I thought the good, old days
Were the days of the pioneer…
I remember them,
But then we got computers and cell-phones and…

In the good old days
Ignorance was bliss...

In the good old days
Youth didn't need a fountain...

Back in the good old days
I thought you would change
And you thought I would not...

The wisdom of the good old days
Still is...

The good, old days
Never existed
Until there was history

The good, old days
Are being formed
Even as we breathe…

2 comments:

  1. Very nice poem, Janet. Your dad was very wise about the "good old days." Dads are often very wise. My dad, for example, never grew 'old.' He had the theory: Old is always ten years older than you are. I like his philosophy and never plan to grow 'old' either!

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  2. Mary, obviously your dad also was very wise:) I'm going to borrow his philosophy too. thank-you.

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!