Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing


The joyous cries of children

splashing into the pool

remind me of a time when life was simpler

when life consisted of running in the backyard

dressed as your favorite superhero

using a stick to guide your way

when your Mom had to call you in for dinner

and you came grimy from the days events

and sleepy from the sun’s rays

Summertime brings the rains that nourish our grounds

and as a child this was the worse thing that could happen

because instead of running around outside

you had to play with your dolls

and you had already decided dollies were for winter only

Summertime flowers were everywhere for the picking

everyday you would bring in a new bouquet to adorn the kitchen table

the only problem was that as a child what you saw as beautiful flowers

were actually weeds that grew in the midst of a sea of green

It didn’t take your Mom or Dad to wake you in the summertime

the birds perched outside on the trees did that for them

and it didn’t matter how fast you could run

the birds were always, always faster

Summertime memories come back to me now

as I smell the first flowers of the season

as I drive by the children selling lemonade

to get enough money to finally buy that pool

yet that fifty-cents a drink will never ever

get put in the pool jar

not when the ice-cream truck is turning

around the corner playing a familiar tune

But that’s the great thing about summertime

when you are a child, there is always tomorrow

always a tomorrow to be Wonder Woman

always a tomorrow to sell lemonade

always a tomorrow to buy ice-cream

always a tomorrow to make a perfect bouquet of flowers

Summertime memories are endless

and I think that is because as a child summertime is endless

an endless day

that as an adult you’d love to have just once more


Christ Follower | Wife | Daughter | Sister | Blogger | Writer | Photographer | Freelance Artist | Saved | Prayer Warrior | Forgiven | Set Free | Sinner | Saint | Loved | Sought After | Set Apart | Sanctified | Free | Blessed Beyond Measure

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