Aug 05 2008
Those Old Dirt Roads
On rugged mountain roads we drove,
And over shaky bridges,
Through valleys deep and rivers wide,
And over dangerous ridges.
We forded rivers, climbed the slopes,
Through tunnels we did crawl,
We drove on through the rough terrain,
And really had a ball.
Adventurers are what we were,
And danger was the game,
And ever since those wilder days,
I’ve never been the same.
Though I am older than I was,
When I was just a kid,
I’ll always love the things we had,
And all the things we did.
For mountain roads and rivers wide,
Were fantasies we had,
Now life is much more serious,
Since I was just a lad.
The mountain roads were in the dirt,
A pile in our back yard,
And little cars are what we drove,
We really drove them hard.
A pile of dirt and Tinker Toys,
Was more than just a game,
Oh how I loved those younger times,
To leave them is a shame.
But I am older than I was,
And life must carry on,
Yet I will always love those days,
Which now are all foregone.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
5 August 2008, ore 23:07
David I truly love your poetry. It frequently gives me chills and this was one of those times.
Don’t you have a pile of dirt in your backyard, though? And maybe some tinker toys?