Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Good 'Ol Summer Days (God, I Love 'Em)

Rating: 5.0
Good ‘Ol Summer Days

Fireworks, hot dogs, hide and seek in the dark
Slope shouldered willow tree, by the lake in the park

Lightning bugs rising, living sparks in the skies
Prisms of light, reflected in toddler’s amazed eyes

Sausage and burgers, hickory smoke and barbecue smells
Ripe barnyard odors, sounds of far-off church bells

Redolent richness of honey locust, saturates summer air
Summery scents, like bramble burrs, seemingly glued in ‘lil girls hair

Short lives of dainty mayflies, mating dance o’er slow muddy rivers
Skinny dips, swimming holes, warm winds, goose- bumpy shivers

Coppertone lotion, peeling nose, wraparound sunglasses
Hangin out at the library, summer-school catch-up classes

Clatter of sticks on white picket fences, Playin cards chatter on bicycle spokes
‘lil boys making noise, wooden swords, and vicious dragon slayin strokes

Iron tastin water from galvanized dippers
Haircuts on back porches, dad’s ‘ol hand snippers

Tick adorned hound dog, asleep in the shade
Lightning and thunder, kids and cats, all afraid

Carnivals, ferris wheels, tilt a whirls, cotton candy
Sweet applesauce, tart apple cider, piquant peach brandy

Meanderin, mossy, frog filled lil creeks, one lane, rust brushed bridges
Water snakes, tadpoles and crawdads, a million pesky midges

Wasps, paper nests, tucked up tight under eaves
Shorts, no socks, workmen sweatin, rolled up sleeves

Daylight stayin out late, morning light comin real early
Dogs wriggling on backs, not chasin nothing, just actin squirrelly

Stomp the ground, listen close, hear earthworms hiss into holes
Pillowly soft grass, raised ridges, tunnels excavated by moles

Frisky dogs catchin Frisbees, aluminum baseball bats a’clinkin
Warm cow manure smell, road kill possum and skunk a’stinkin

Cane pole, fishin hole, homemade cork bobber
Neighbor’s Saint Bernard, droopy jaws drippin slobber

Well tended gardens, watermelon wine
The scaling of trellis by morning glory vine

Chigger bites itchin from blackberry pickin
Kids clownish red mouths from popsicle lickin

Mud puddles, barefeet, squishy mud between toes
Bumblebees, moon glow and perfect rainbows

Sleepy dogs, cryin kids, fields of blue and white clover
Strange ‘lil spiders on silken threads flyin over

Soul caressing, sultry, and soft summer nights
Poison ivy, sun burn blisters and itchy skeeter bites

Tranquil murmurs of turtle doves, piercing calls of brassy blue jay
Hangin ricks of golden tobacco, smell of new mown timothy hay

Do you miss, as much as I do… those good ‘ol summer days?
David Whalen
Wayne Bowen 25 December 2009
I really like this poem. This takes me back to my early years and how we did the same things. What great descriptions of how it really was!
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