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Connie Faust

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When We Were Kids - Challenge
by Connie Faust
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Connie Faust
•  America, Bless God! (post-Sept. 11, 2001)
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           >> View all 288

...Where angels fear to tread...

Some of our activities were normal,

like playing school in Peggy's basement,

the one where the creek ran through,

trading "funny-books" (now called comics)

and playing cut-outs, our reality shows--

those paper dolls knew a thing or two.


When life got dull, and we needed thrills,

we'd ride our bikes up and down the hills

that filled the lot across the street

where "Arch" and "Water" happened to meet.


The butcher shop was on the corner

and provided entertainment galore,

even when we took a note from Mom

and bought our groceries from their store.


but the other end of the red brick building

kept the steers confined till they met their fate,

and the neighborhood kids all loved to watch--

for the slaughtering time they'd gravely wait.


Then, hanging on the bottom of the double door

we'd watch for hours as the skin was peeled

and the carcass cut with a well-trained knife,

steaks and chops and hamburg to yield.


Well, the thrills are over for another day,

but there's still the creek where we can play,

so off we'd go down the little bank

and look for solid stones to cross.

By the way, the sewer lines drained into our creek,

so if we fell in, it was our stinky loss.


Sometimes there were fights-- I remember well

the day I thought I was pretty swell;

I thought I could beat up that kid, Big Red,

so I walked up and challenged him,

You gotta know that he was tough,

and I was a tomboy, but puny and thin.

You know the story, the fight was won,

but not by me--Big Red was the one!


When you start thinking about childhood days,

and how you lived with your childhood ways,

the story could go on where your memory leads it,

but no one would stick around to read it .

I must say, this poem is no prize winner,

so feel free to go now and eat your dinner.


Why did I start this anyway?  Oh, yes, the challenge. Oh, my.



Two Small Fish
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Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 8/12/2010
I don't know how I missed this, it's truly a wonderful nostalgic poem. A joy to read.
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 8/8/2010
This took me back to a dusty little south Arkansas town where I was raised. It was dusty because the streets weren't paved and country folk drove wagons to the little town on Saturday for the "drawings" the merchants would put on. The town was full and the women gossiped, the men bragged and snuck corn liquor from Mason jars, and without a doubt one or two would have too much and there would be a fight, but with fists not guns like today, except every so often someone got cut. Yep, I could keep writing, but . . .
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 8/8/2010

One memory leads to another and another ... beautifully penned. Well done.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 8/8/2010
Yes Connie it seems that one small memory of childhood can lead to a varitable maze of wonderful memories...enjoyed
Reviewed by David Maclellan 8/8/2010
Thank you Connie for sharing your wonderful childhood memories. And if you decide to write 'When We Were Kids II' I will put my dinner on the warmer, and consume your words first!
Best regards,
Reviewed by Paul Berube 8/8/2010
Well done, Connie.
Reviewed by Christine Tsen 8/7/2010
This is cute and personable and nostalgia is so much fun!
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 8/7/2010
It is truly amazing how much life has changed in not so much time; thank you for sharing the memories, Connie. Love and best wishes,

Reviewed by John Domino 8/7/2010
This poem was full of fun memories!
Have you ever played skellie?
Don't ask me how but we played it and jumped all over the pavement.
We played it with soda bottle caps.
Enjoyed much!

Still a "Little Big" kid,


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