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Memories
Bun and I
by Velma M. Carlson
Let’s go out and
play again the way we used to do
Let’s
start out in the “old plum trees” – there’s
So much that we can do
You
sweep the floor – I’ll pick the greens and
Pump the water too;
And
put them on our stove to cook – it was fun to
Play with you!
Let’s
take a trip to Tommy Mack’s, it’s time you
Used to say.
They’re
making pancakes, I am sure, like they did
Every day.
Remember
how we’d sit and watch, hoping we’d be
Asked to stay?
Caddy
was their only child; she was “old” they
Used to say.
Remember
the old molasses jug and the beds that
Lined one wall?
And
the braided rugs they made to sell from early
Spring to fall?
Let’s go down to watch the train; it always came
At four.
Wasn’t that a lot
of fun? We could always think
Of more.
The men who worked
the railroad tracks came out
Every day.
We were told not to
go there but always found
A way.
An old caboose was a
dining room where they fed them
Each day.
So we would always
be on time, we’d always
Eat that way.
The men would hold
us on their laps and we’d eat from
Their plates.
I remember it
tasted, -Oh, so good, and seldom were
We late.
Those were the
“happiest of days” -
We were just
Little
kids.
I was always so afraid from all the silly things
We did
At night when we
were put to bed
What an awful lot of fun!
We just tore the bed
apart –Me and my
Sister, Bun.
We would tell me to
shut my eyes so that we would
Look asleep.
And when Mom came in
to make us stop
There wouldn’t be a
“peep”
I love you, Bun
- and I always know that you really love
Me too.
Just wish we could
go back again – so much that we
Could do.
Remember the
composition book? And the dime you got
From Dad?
I promised I would
never tell, but then you got me mad!
Just wish we could go
back again to dear old
Aroostook County,
Maine,
And if we could, I am
very sure
It would never,
never, be the same.
A simile is as easy as pie, but a
metaphor is a piece of cake!
Poetry From the Generations - Nan's Morsels
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