Together half a century ago,
When kiddies were mere tots,
We knew we’d found our place to grow,
Our “home fires burning” plot.
And up the street, across the brook
a woodsy path did beckon,
Through many years the treks we took
meant more than we would reckon.
With kids and grandkids we’d return,
And while en route we’d teach
that peace is just mere steps away,
A treasure in our reach.
As seasons come and seasons fly,
And leaves, once green, turn gold,
We know while life is passing by
Our story’s being told.
Someday, long hence, our family boys
will sit by home fires burning,
And up the street, across the brook,
Remember all their learnings.
Writing 201: Poetry Day 7: Neighborhood, Ballad, Assonance
Nice photo! The reflection of the clouds almost looks like the reflection of a distant snow-covered mountain. Interesting!
Rich and gorgeous image. How wonderful to share with next generation.
Yes – I like this one and it is true. We still go up to Brightwood Park several times a week. Our grandsons now are always pestering “Can we go up to Brightwood”? Since it is in our neighborhood, I though it an apt theme for this challenge. Thanks, Ginny.
I’d like to be there now. Wonderful.
I enjoyed the content and the sound. A lovely song to a lovely place.
Yes, quite so! A family vacation since our tots were tots and now we go either them and their children. Lunch at Rose and Crown…a treasured ritual!
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Yes you truly found your dream abode. 🙂
Wow, I wish I lived somewhere so beautiful. Lovely poem.
Lovely neighborhood! Lovely poem!