A kid in 1965 - Belle's Challenge (poem) by Patrick A Granfors on AuthorsDen

A kid in 1965 - Belle's Challenge
by Patrick A Granfors → (All Poetry by Patrick A Granfors)
Rated "G" by the Author.

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I was there.
1965 When I was a kid things were different Junior high was five miles away You could ride the school bus But it took an hour So I rode my bike when it was nice And sometimes when it wasn’t My friend Marty and I had leather book bags And it wasn’t really cool Pocket protectors for leaky pens Not an issue, personal choice Geeks, when there was no such thing (OK denial ) I helped Grampa bale hay every summer He paid us a penny a bale Slave wages Captive audience Bee stings, iced tea And the chance to drive the tractor! Home grown popcorn cooked in an iron skillet Riding, standing up in the back of the pickup Hanging over the cab, wind, blasting our faces Laughing and howling Headed for the lake after bales were put up in the barn Splashing in the brown water Diving off the raft Wading in the muddy shallows Picking off the blood suckers between the toes Bonanza and Walt on Sunday nights Grandma’s Home made bread topped with Grampa’s fresh churned unpasteurized “stinky butter” We hated it then Probably would love it now Doctors would cringe What do they know? More years available on demand. Copyright 2010 Patrick Granfors

Reviewed by Christine Tsen

Reviewed on August 6, 2010

This is fantastic!
I love the nostalgic edge to poems like this, and you have given us a feast here.

Hey, you said more years available on demand...
What's the ickiest gooiest stuff you've got tucked away in there, even more graphic than stinky butter... ?
Blessings,
Christine

Reviewed by Karen Palumbo

Reviewed on August 5, 2010

Seems you sure led an interesting life. I still make my own bread, ice cream, pasta, tomato sauce all from scratch and sometimes churn my own butter when I have the time. Lots of work in my little garden too six months of the year...

Be always safe,
Karen

Reviewed by Susan Bergeron

Made me go back to my grandparents farm, same timeframe...love that stinky butter...love the memories...Sue

Reviewed by Ed Matlack

Did you try toe jam on your bread with your stinky butter...? Fun and informative write, how did I know you were a geek way back when there weren't any...LOL, Ed

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reads, sounds great, like my own. Like Huckleberry Finn, one of my early book ideas, Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tales [not a sweet children's book--they'll have to sneak to read], lies waiting on the To Do list when I'm old of those riotous times we had free from soccer moms and diligent dads.

Why you and I love the wilderness today.

Ron

Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)

in 1965 i was begging my parents not to have sex, as i was born into this toilet bowl world in 1966. but this is really great writing patrick. maybe 1965 was the last good year on earth and it all went to hell the day i landed??

Reviewed by Eileen Granfors

I love this poem. Whether you grew up in Michigan or California or the Ozarks, childhood and the teen years were once a smoother road, stinky butter and all.

Reviewed by David Maclellan

It makes me realise that kids in the 60s in America were doing things not much different to the kids in Australia. They were great times, thank you for sharing them Patrick.
Kids of the 60s unite and write!
Best regards,
David