Friday, April 27, 2012

Y is for Young

I found a relic of the past today.  When I was in 10th grade, my English class put together a little book called Soul Food, which contained essays and poems from every student in the class.  I located it in my garage.  Garages hide boxes of memories.

This is the poem I wrote for the book.  I was fifteen years old.

A Forever Friend (Winter 1998)

When we were young,
That's when we had readl fun,
When imaginations soared,
When Chihuahua dogs were dragons,
And tulip flower fairies were real.
We dashed across green grass all day,
And did not give a care
About the past presidents of France,
Or the bloody war in the east.

When we were young,
We flew like sparrows under the sun.
The jack pine lions roared
At the pink and orange snapdragons,
And chocolate ice cream was a meal.
We skipped on ivory moonbeam rays,
And jumped alligator infested moats on a dare,
And slashed our favorite corduroy pants,
And concocted a delicious mudpie feast.

When we are old,
We'll rest on the porch until the day is done,
And we'll wear purple and never pore,
Of hearing the child down the road bragging.
Our everlasting friendship will have a tangible feel.
We'll sit and remember our play,
And not mind if the wind blows our silver-gilt hair.
We'll recall the time a pine bough was a lance
Used to spear the mighty shadow beast.

When we are old,
We'll snooze with our hair in a bun,
And won't care if we snore.
Grandchildren pushing red wagons
Will help wizened hearts heal.
We won't care how much we weigh,
And will irk the young by eating an eclair.
And for eternity we'll watch the kaleidoscope sunset dance.
Together through the ages, friends forever.

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