Though I am old, I can recall
Those golden days when I was small
When I was but a growing tyke
With stuff I liked or did not like.
I was not tall nor ego prone
Far long ere my ideas were sown
I liked to play quite by myself
With my stuffed friends upon the shelf.
Most lives were so much simpler then
We wrote with ink and nib and pen
There were few ways we got about
While horse and wagon still stand out.
We learned to treasure moments past
Dear God, those years were one big blast !
Claire V. Bogdanos 