17 February, 2003
author: Rebecca Ditch-Hammack (aka Dreamer)
Snowed into my house with no where to go
I sat looking out the window at the glistening snow
I was eating chicken soup; its good for the human soul
And as I ate I reminisced, and my memories began to flow
I remember childhood when I would play outside
I'd run out to the garage, I'd grab my sled and ride
Swooping down death defying hillsides, then slowing to a glide
Climbing up to go again sliding back a bit with each stride
After we were finished back to our house we'd go
Standing over heat ducts curling our frozen toes
Mother brings us hot chocolate and tissue for our nose
Then off to our warm bedrooms for a change of clothes
We would play in our rooms with the neighborhood friends
Or watch a bit of TV until our snowday ends
As we crawled into our bed we'd pray our snow days would extend
With visions of snowball fights and and snowforts, to sleep we would descend
I sit and think about that sled still upon the garage wall
And if I would be thought insane if I gave answer it's call
Would I feel the joy within and would I feel enthralled
I think I will just sip my cocoa and smile enjoying my memory now recalled
Comments on this poem/writing:
|barb (184.108.40.206) -- Monday, February 17 2003, 08:37 pm|
yea dreamer when It's cold outside the memories are nice .staying in where it's warm and just enjoying the past is smart.
|Martin Vann (220.127.116.11) -- Monday, February 17 2003, 11:12 pm|
Be the child that hides in you, not the woman, that has taken her place.
Don't let time be the hill, seek its top and slide for joy, bust your butt, some pain for once, you can enjoy!
Loved the way you spread your heart upon the snow.
|lasohnda harris (18.104.22.168) -- Saturday, March 1 2003, 05:42 pm|
Thats good when you could do something one day and while doing it you remember the good old days. nice poem
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