Family

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Our Childhood Home

Memories of our childhood home still linger in my mind.
These long years gone, yet still so strong throughout my life they wind.

Our roomy home held lots of love, and friends, and food, and fun.
The doors went slam as in and out we boys would chance to run.

The grass was green most all year long; the trees were tall with might.
Friends came in from all around to hope for pine cone fights.

The fields grew rich with soy beans, but sugar cane was king.
We tramped for hours all through them, in search of creeping things.

Young and old alike on weekends, gathered on our block,
to play beloved baseball in the nearest vacant lot.

Shrimp and crab and crawfish boils were common on our street,
where families came together to laugh and play and eat.

We spent much time in our childhood church, which still looms tall and grand;
where we learned to trust in Jesus and for Him to take a stand.

Accidents did happen as it does with boys like us;
but we always patched together without a lot of fuss.

Our childhood home was not without its problems and its woes,
yet after all was said and done, the highs outnumbered lows.

That place we lived, the times we had, a paradise we thought,
for brothers young to have such fun, could never have been bought.

Dreams have come and dreams have gone, in all the years since then;
yet still my mind can go aside where memories never dim.

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