Summer Time Poem by Mai Murphy Venn

I remember my happy childhood summers.
long sunny days slowly turning into evening sunset.
Friends with pretty summer dresses, playing.
Ice pops melting as they dribble down the stick.
That stick, which was to be my tool for the melted tar.
The tarmacadam was soft on the road, so I imprinted.
works of art to adorn the street with my daydreams.
Hay fever and asthma attack, my daily ailments.
Yet, the sun was shining, and the sky was blue
White fluffy clouds forming strange shapes floated.
While playing in the meadows, collecting wildflowers
Making daisy chains, gently walking in the ponds
As twilight fell, the sun laid its head behind the hills.
The gathering of local children in the high grass
As they sang songs, told stories and family yarns.
Then we would hear the voice of motherhood
Calling each child, one be one to come in for bed.
Families answering the call would rise and obey.
Dwindling away as they went, home sweet home.
Till the next night, we would meet again, all together.
Childhood memories haunt me as I remember so well.
But times have changed so much, it makes you think.
Were we the lucky once, to have such joyful recollections?