The old five bar gate in the meadow
That started my back with its twinging
To open and shut lifted out of its rut
Because the old thing needs re-hinging
When we were young it was newer
As kids we would use it to swing
A long lost brass bell minus hanger
When gate clattered shut it would ring
The bleached wooden gate started rotting
Five bars had now become four
The post at the end has developed a bend
And now it can’t swing anymore
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, that is so sad. Childhood memories, with no way of reliving them. Really great poem. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX