To my brothers and sisters, with love. We always had a porch swing It was a staple when I was young We kept it busy every summer With stories and the songs we sung My sisters and I sang together Smiling faces with legs entwined With four of us, it got quite crowded But no one ever seemed to mind Swinging on those hot, summer days Trying to stir up a whiff of cool air On rainy days, it became a tent With a blanket from the rocking chair Embroidery to crocheting to stringing beans Or just swinging the baby to sleep I can still see Mother sitting there Those are memories for a heart to keep Daddy rested in that old porch swing After a day of working hard And when it started squeaking He greased the chains with lard Ah, the secrets that swing could tell About our innermost thoughts and dreams Boys and girls talking about boys and girls Brother and me hatching “get rich” schemes Loving to hear Daddy’s old guitar As he strummed at the end of day A freight train from way over in Delorme And the crickets and frogs at play Life seems to have gotten too busy Seems we don’t make the time anymore To enjoy the simplest pleasures of life Making memories to revisit evermore Kathleen McCoy Eldridge © July 30, 2011 All Rights Reserved share

sign view guestbook

back next
home mail

Website Closed

Sapphire Designs