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
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 life...it's great!
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.
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.
hugs
Fee
Reviewed by Deborah Munson (Reader)
Reviewed on April 20, 2008
Stunning and vivid description of many a childhood memory. You captured it well. Deborah:)
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)
Reviewed on April 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 . . .
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...
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
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......
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!
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
Explore the mystery of how nature makes unexpected gifts of creative wonders to an unsuspecting caregiver one late night and early morning in southeastern Georgia, USA.
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Ron
hugs
Fee
Georg
Evocative recollection, Susan.
Cheerie
Dai
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Love, Pierre
Superb memoir!
Love,
ET
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.