My mind goes back to days long past, I remember so many good things. Of wading the creek and riding my bike And pumping up on the old home-made swing.
I remember the old country school where we met, When at recess, we played, as a rule. There were cries of “Red Rover” and “Annie-Eye-Over”, As we threw a ball over the school.
I would wade in the creek to feel the cool mud Squishing up through my bare-footed toes; And I’d splash as I wielded an old kitchen sieve, Chasing minnows, as they fled, to and fro.
We’d play cops and robbers, using home-made guns, ‘Til it got much too dark to see. Then we’d all go inside to play games and read, Then in bed, when we’d ought to be.
Those days are now gone, long gone, in the past, And are labeled the days of yore; But our memory takes us, beyond the long years, To relive them, with pleasure, once more
Notes From The Author: You may e-mail me with any comments about my poetry.
This poem goes out to all those teenagers,confused about thier identity and to my parents who love me and whom i love more than anything in this whole universe
you are here: 
