My Favorite Backyard Spot

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