Thursday, March 8, 2018

Window Of Time




As I look through the window of time
there's a deep peace of content and hope that cheers
for the things I see so clearly my spirits does climb
as I step into the light of my childhood years

A family all together on many evenings long ago
gathered around the table what joy it does bring
the supper hour, a magnet drawing love to glow
I listen to the voices that makes my heart sing

My mama's cooking is the best to be found
the aroma of the smells are oh so inviting
her reward is her family gathered all around
a table full of love prepared from summer's canning

I see my hard working daddy with his wrinkled brow
washing his face and hands like always before
after the end of days work and milking the cow
they all bow their heads and give Thanks even more

The old oil lamp in the middle of the table, is still there
with darkness settling in waiting for daylight
it shines so bright on mama and daddy's silver hair
and the love will forever linger in plain sight

Then comes the morning of another yesterday
with many little feet running all through the house
anxious to eat and waiting patiently for school or play
before the break of dawn it was quiet as a mouse

Walking to catch the bus and crossing the little creek
some are anxious to get to school and some in a fuss
till the sight of a long neck crane with a minnow in it's beak
so engrossed till we all just about miss the school bus

So many memories still tucked away around that old road
a place to ride an old worn out bike or play and roam
walking home from the bus in the evening in a tired mode
till I see more welcome sights that await me at home 

Awe, I see mama's pretty quilts blowing in the wind
every little stitch was sown with love in her heart
the first signs of spring has slipped around the bend
quilts and flowers in my heart will never part

All of the gardens are planted and pretty as can be
so many little hands knowing how to plant and hoe
taught when to work and when to play so patiently
the bounty is worth it, nary a weed is allowed to grow

The rewards of summertime is splashing in the creek
or running through those trails the whole day long
catching lightning bugs in a jar and playing hide and seek
in that place called childhood my heart will always belong

When the bounty is ready to harvest I see the skies so blue
soon the cool, crisp nights of Fall will give way to the cold
as the snowflakes fall so gently, the playing is way over due
down those snowy hills we own and sliding makes us bold

So many things to see through that window glass
brings joy to my heart and a hunger like I've never known
for the precious memories I hold nothing can ever surpass
in a place where childhood memories were so easily sown

Oh how I love that wonderful, old window of time
those sweet, familiar faces I see just like always before
that ageless old mantle clock will forever chime
through that window even if time has shut the door


© Susie Swanson, 2018

9 comments:

  1. Lovely poem, Susie. These are such sweet and precious memories of those happy days.

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  2. Susie, I love this poem. Your words take me back to my own childhood. They fill me with my own memories of work ,play, and family. Makes me wish we could have known each other back then. Blessings to you, love, xoxo, Susie

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  3. Very precious poem. A treasure trove of happy memories.

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  4. It's a wonderful poem full of memories!
    Thanks for checking in on me; I'm all good, just haven't blogged since August. :( But I will soon...

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    1. Oh, and I wanted to say, I simply love the pictures of the old houses on your sidebar. I'm wondering if some are log houses? We're into watching Barnwood Builders (on DIY tv) and are fascinated by the work that went into building log structures.

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  5. What a breathtaking poem and a lovely picture to accompany it.

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  6. Lovely poem. Well-written and heartfelt.

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  7. Your poems always warm my heart, Susie. I can just see you all sitting at the table getting ready to eat your mama's wonderful meals. I miss that as well. We used to all sit around the table to eat dinner every night. Then the kids grow and have kids of their own. But we will always remember, won't we?

    You are such a dear one with many special stories to tell. And I hope you continue to share them with us.

    love, ~Sheri

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  8. Susie,
    I love this poem. It sure brings back a lot of memories. I hope you are feeling well. It's great to see you blogging.

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