The Porch Swing
~~~~Some folks might say about our swing,
“It’s just an old and rusting thing,”
but I remember all the ways
that old porch swing would fill our days .
~~~~
Upon that swing now hanging still,
moon rising o’er the distant hill,
Mama rested, sipping tea,
and sang sweet lullabies to me
~~~~With silent rocking dreams were sought
on summer days when it was hot,
games we played while resting there,
chess, and checkers moved on squares .
~~~~
Women gathered ‘round the swing,
to share the latest gossiping,
while sewing patches on our jeans,
or maybe popping garden beans.
~~~~
Men returning from the field
would wait there for the evening meal,
at end of day, their work complete,
old Rex, our dog, lay at their feet .
~~~~
Auntie sometimes shedding tears,
recalling friends lost through the years,
would pass the hours on our porch
swinging gently back and forth .
~~~~We courted on that creaking swing,
first love softly blossoming,
sneaking kisses in the night
veiled in shadows of moonlight.
~~~~Worn and weathered that old seat
has served us well, its use replete,
we now rock babes with curly hair,
soothing them with loving care .
~~~~ Remembering yet those days of old
in summer heat or winter cold,
how we chanced to tarry there
making memories we could share.
Tammy Hillman, 1976
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(Friday ~ Harry and Me, Part Two.)