The sketch I drew
From my mind’s eye
Caused me to reminisce
Of days gone by
It was of a boy
Who I’d say was three
A picture of joy
As he swung on the swing
Happy go lucky
As the old saying goes
Not wearing shoes
Dirt on his toes
A gentler time
He’ll never forget
Pushed by his dad
On that old swing set
Kevin Parish 
Beautifully written.
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Many thanks! ;-)))
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Beautiful!
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Thank you, Richa!
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It made remember my childhood. Lovely poem, Kevin.
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Me too!😁😁😁
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I’d forgotten how my dad used to push my brother and me on the swing set. Higher, Daddy, higher!
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I did that with my kids, and my son saw a video of me pushing him. He said it was obvious I wanted to stop, but I kept on pushing. Funny! I wrote a very sweet song about those memories and the thoughts they provoked. I’ll see if I ever posted that. If not…
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What a sweet memory from your son!
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thank you so much! ;-)))
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This past week, I read a blog post about Norman Rockwell’s paintings, which your poem immediately brought to mind. He would have painted a wonderful painting of the scene in your poem describes.
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How amzing were his paintings with the feelings they instilled in us? Thank you, Liz!
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You’re welcome!
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