sit a spell and remember...
my grandparents had a cottage on the Cedar River
my brother and I were young
memories
'don't go in there yet' yelled granny
running with a rolled up newspaper to wipe the cobwebs
out of the corners of the outhouse
CREEPY
lookout for that ol' snake under the steps
I run fast
see gramma
gramps would hook up the storm windows to the ceiling
lettin' in the warm summer breeze
through the screens on the porch
'don't sit on them chairs yet
they gotta be wiped down'
granny grabbed an old rag from the basket
and whitened the ol' Adirondack chairs
with a few whacks
dust would fly
same ol' rag safety-pinned to a broom
polished the corners of webs in each musty room
it was the smell of old
as curtains set sail to each opened window
cicada song was the tune that lulled me to sleep
on the giant bouncy bed
my ship of dreams
tall prairie grass fortressing the strawberry bed
me and my brother crawled around
in and out of the shafts
where are you
let's go to the creek and look for craw-daddies
I'll catch that butterfly
go get a peanut butter jar
Gramps planted sweet corn
the best in our world
sweet butter oozed down our chins
fresh butchered chicken
GROSS
but how soon we'd forget
that headless twirling apparition
when the crispy crumbles dotted our shirts
did someone say apple pie
I can still smell the old wooden matches
blown out with a flick o the wrist
sittin' in the porch
listenin' to the old radio tunes
a bath high up in the big ol sink
seersucker jammies
curled up on Granny's lap in a rocker
squeak squeak squeak
wrinkled old hands caress my arm
soft lips on my cheek
I was blessed
Wilbur swat that fly
for my beloved Grandparents
Wilbur and Estelle
my grandparents had a cottage on the Cedar River
my brother and I were young
memories
'don't go in there yet' yelled granny
running with a rolled up newspaper to wipe the cobwebs
out of the corners of the outhouse
CREEPY
lookout for that ol' snake under the steps
I run fast
see gramma
gramps would hook up the storm windows to the ceiling
lettin' in the warm summer breeze
through the screens on the porch
'don't sit on them chairs yet
they gotta be wiped down'
granny grabbed an old rag from the basket
and whitened the ol' Adirondack chairs
with a few whacks
dust would fly
same ol' rag safety-pinned to a broom
polished the corners of webs in each musty room
it was the smell of old
as curtains set sail to each opened window
cicada song was the tune that lulled me to sleep
on the giant bouncy bed
my ship of dreams
tall prairie grass fortressing the strawberry bed
me and my brother crawled around
in and out of the shafts
where are you
let's go to the creek and look for craw-daddies
I'll catch that butterfly
go get a peanut butter jar
Gramps planted sweet corn
the best in our world
sweet butter oozed down our chins
fresh butchered chicken
GROSS
but how soon we'd forget
that headless twirling apparition
when the crispy crumbles dotted our shirts
did someone say apple pie
I can still smell the old wooden matches
blown out with a flick o the wrist
sittin' in the porch
listenin' to the old radio tunes
a bath high up in the big ol sink
seersucker jammies
curled up on Granny's lap in a rocker
squeak squeak squeak
wrinkled old hands caress my arm
soft lips on my cheek
I was blessed
Wilbur swat that fly
for my beloved Grandparents
Wilbur and Estelle
I share a glimpse of my treasures from a day's outing...
it's Shadow Shot Sunday down under.
The memories of olden days and a childhood filled with adventures...
these are the days of my life.
it's Shadow Shot Sunday down under.
The memories of olden days and a childhood filled with adventures...
these are the days of my life.