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Susan K. de Vegter

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Rainy Times
by Susan K. de Vegter
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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           >> View all 1,204

Back in the days when we played in the attic
When we were all small and loved the hair static
We'd make fun of looks and laugh at our faces
We'd hoodwink the image of dusty old traces
Those trunks of our childhood
They held old folks dreams
We'd squeal when it'd open from curious screams
The joys of a button all tarnished and old
We hoped for lost treasure...we wanted the gold
Our fantasies laughed and let go emotions
We dusted off shells...that echoed the ocean
Moth-eaten hats and fedora feathers
Rusty old hinges and worn out old leather
Stuff of a lifetime in rotting old wood
Memories keeping good children good
When rainy day moments sent smiles to the top
That held old folks dreams in heated old lofts
Where children found images decked out in dreams
From years long ago among moments with things
That housed love and glory...the patriots vote
The red white and blue that sheltered their hopes
The past of a dynasty dressed up to there
Kids all in smiles amid dreams of lost years
Those rainy day moments when we dallied in side
We played hide and seek with broomsticks our ride
The friends that were there the siblings who played
In rainy day times where our memory stayed

2000 Susan Kathryn de Vegter

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Reviewed by Ronald Hull 4/23/2008
Youth. When a rainy day was an opportunity.

Reviewed by jude forese 4/20/2008
great rhyme & meter to this poem, Susan ... made the motif more effective ...
Reviewed by J. Allen Wilson 4/20/2008
Seems that the memories of those time become stronger as we age...stronger and with more meaning as well....enjoyed this Susan
Reviewed by Barbara Smith 4/20/2008
Susan, those days in the attic could be marvelous...couldn't they? I could be Lana Turner or Rita Hayworth in a few seconds and strut across the dusty old floor in high heels big enough for both of my feet. I love poem like this that brings childhood back to's great!
Reviewed by Aubrey Hammack 4/20/2008
As a child I was always fascinated with the rain. Exploring inside the house on days when the weather would not permit one to go outside. And even later, loving to be in the rain, play in it, and getting soaked was a good thing. One of my grandboys, James, the other day held his little hand up in the rain and I asked what he was doing as he put his hand to his mouth. He replied, "I'm drinking the rain pa". When asked if it tasted good, he said yes. I loved it.
Reviewed by Debby & Gordon Rosenberg 4/20/2008
awe, i loved this memory of rainy times...
Reviewed by Felix Perry 4/20/2008
I cherish all those same memories, with nine siblings and no TV most times rainy days were spent together most times doing games, reading or singing. Sad that todays children never get to experience any rainy day families except for electronic friends.
Reviewed by Deborah Munson (Reader) 4/20/2008
Stunning and vivid description of many a childhood memory. You captured it well. Deborah:)
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 4/20/2008
some of my best times have been in the rain--i love this write--it speaks to my spirit of loving the rain and memories
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 4/20/2008
Dusting of an oldie but a goodie, Susan . . . One line in the whole beautiiful poem stood out among all the rest . . . "Memories keeping good children good" . . . Such a profound statement . . . We had those memories, not what the kids of today have . . . Making heros out of villians . . . Rapping to kill cops . . . Screwing on the Internet uplifts certain Hollywood beauties(ugh) . . . A poem only we who know what the hell you are talking about can appreciiate . . . My beautiful, poetic soul, Susan . . .
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 4/20/2008
My brothers said no way, so my sis had me as her last instance to play with hats and high heeled shoes, old lipsticks and fancy little sun unbrellas with rosa frills, I felt funny about but I love to dead that little one, so I went along...

Reviewed by Approximately Naive 4/20/2008
How I love to retreat back to and recall those attic filled days when the rain fell steady on the roof of our childhood happiness.

Evocative recollection, Susan.
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 4/20/2008
Delightful piece you've penned, Susan; wish the rains were like that here, but noooooooooooooooooo!! Here in Texas it rains two ways: all at once (aka severe) or not at all! No happy medium!! The weather's nutz here!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Reviewed by Pierre Ortega 4/19/2008
Such a sweet write about the rainy days of childhood, I grew up in the south bay area of southern california and I remember it raining alot there. I remember how special those days felt to me, playing indoors with my brother and sister and getting into everything, It was a whole different world then......

Love, Pierre
Reviewed by E T Waldron 4/19/2008
Such wondrous times, you make me recall,I loved them all!
Superb memoir!

Reviewed by Daniel McTaggart 4/19/2008
Those are the best times to play. The best times for your mind to run as wild as your feet.
Reviewed by Ed Matlack 4/19/2008
When I was growing up, the best time to surf was in a rainstorm, so very little did I play inside...but enjoyed hearing of it, as it sounded fun...ed
Reviewed by Randall Barfield 4/19/2008
Who can forget those days? Those objects? The scents and dust? Nice.
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 4/19/2008
I think I remember this one, Susan, you capture the innocence of childhood perfectly in this one. Rainy days were the best - got to play inside, or catch up on a good book - well done!

(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
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