Saturday, November 26, 2011

The Good Old Days

These are the good old days.

The golden years were in the summer
of my life, when the sun was shining.
I met my husband, held my children’s
wiggly bodies for the first time,
had a houseful of laughter and activity.

The good old days are now.  I’m old,
but there are riches to be found
in the love of this same sweet man,
the mountain top in fall, or a winter
scene when I write or paint to my content.


Ann said...

I agree with the good old days being now, Judy.

Mary said...

I like this poem and its message, but I disagree with one thing: you are not old!

Peggy said...

Great message here Judy. Good days of being older. Perhaps we should call them the good older days.

Shersim said...

Funny, I was just thinking of this earlier today and coming out on the wrong end of it. Yes, there are wondrous things happening now, though it is easy to get mired in the loss of times past.

Anonymous said...

Each day is good. The next better... eventually I'll get to the place where my content heart can craft away any time night or day. But until then contenment found in even the working hour will have to do.

Olive Tree said...

hm...sounds peaceful, Judy. perhaps the holidays tend to bring this out in us, thinking about the good old days. this is a nice piece, and thank you for stopping by to my blog earlier. i appreciate your visit and comment :)

Willow said...

Yes, I agree the golden days were in the summer of our lives, now are the silver years, still full of riches.