Children played ring around the rosey?
Not a care they had.
That is when a Dad,was a Dad.
Mother's read to them at night.
Everything in their world was right.
The sounds of music playing in the park.
It was safe to be out after dark.
We gathered around the table to talk.
Or all of us took a walk?
Summer breeze's drifted in our open door's.
Or we sat on the porch?
After supper,and after chores.
The radio sat in the parlour.
We sat and listened to Amos and Andy.
Or maybe Fibber Mcgee.
All of us together.
Gentle days,and gentle nights.
The Flag waved from each house.
We were a family,the whole world.
We were proud to be Americans.
Those times,have come and gone.
Never to return again.
But.I remember when.
In the kitchen,was a table.
Round,and big,and scarred.
Years of dinner's and games.
Chair's all around,with out names.
Before TV tables,and trays.
Oh,those were the days.
Fragrant smell's of frying chicken.
From our own yard.
Pot bubbling on the stove.
Corn on the cob,that we have grown.
All of us,eating together,not alone.
Mom,Dad,and all the kids.
Some times Grand Folks to.
Oh,the stories they would tell.
Dog laying on the floor.
Waiting for the scraps.
Funny,how many fell.
And we would never tell.
We never fought on who's turn it was.
To clear,and clean.
It was the best time of the day.
When this was done,we could go play.
Record player,playing,String Of Pearls.
How we would laugh and giggle.
To watch them dance.
I would do it again,if I only had the chance.
Bed time came,at an early hour.
It was fine.
It was almost Inner Sanctum Time.
Do you remember?
Sunday morning came.
Dad was calling our names.
Get up,you lazy bones.
Mom,was cooking bisquits.
And not from a can.
Bacon,was sizzling in the pan.
Dressed warm against the cold.
To get the eggs,from the pen.
Dawn was breaking,above the tree's.
I thought my legs would freeze.
Breakfast over,kitchen cleaned.
Mom would say,let's hurry.
Pretty pink dress,with ruffles all around.
Black patent leather shoes.
She always looked so sweet.
Hair curled,and wavy.
Dad in his suit,and hat.
He never liked to dress like that.
But it's Sunday.
Car was warming in the drive.
Waiting for Grandma to arrive.
Dad is watching the time.
I guess afraid we will be late.
Inside the Church,the choir singing.
Just a Closer Walk With Thee.
Pastor telling us the story.
Of God,and all his Glory.
I will take that picture forever with me.
He grew up in a family of nine.
On a farm in central Illinois.
During some really tough times,in the thirty's.
Most of his brothers,and his folk's are gone now.
I wanted to share with you,what life was really like then.
Tough,yes,but family made it seem easy.
There was no television.
No computer games.
The brother's and sister's played together.
Cowboys,and Indians,or hide and seek.
Shared family chores.
Shared family joy's and sorrow's.
There were no hidden drugs.
No guns taken to school.
Homework and family.
I came from a smaller family.
But life was just the same.
So,to you reading this.
Do you remember when?