Muddy Dirt Roads
In times gone by when I was just a child,
During days when life was meek and mild.
I held a hand that led me forward,
On dirt roads stepping childishly awkward.
For me, it was a time for sharing,
For the hand I held, it was a time of caring.
Neither knew at the time of the outing,
The memories made neither pouting.
Each puddle with water-filled,
Navigated skillfully balance instilled.
To slip and fall in mud accidentally,
Would incite lectures abusive mentally.
It was meant to be a time for sharing,
A time for watching, loving, and caring.
A time to appreciate life’s bountiful giving,
A time to remember, talking, and exploring.
And, with the rain, its fury unleashing,
Causing each to quicken our pace releasing.
Regardless of the skill displayed on this day,
Muddy shoes covered soon turning to clay.
T’was a fanciful time there on the hill,
Rain-filled gullies, stomping puddles our thrill.
Even now many decades later graying and still,
I remember each outing, memories instilled.
I’m told that I shouldn’t linger here long,
Upon dirt roads, wet, muddy, singing a song.
But what else should I be doing I ponder,
For I love muddy dirt roads in which to wander .
About the Creator
Dan R Fowler
Dan R. Fowler. https://www.amazon.com/Verge-Dan-R-Fowler. Completed 41 novels since 2017. Screenplay being shopped by Voyage Media, LA, CA
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Comments (1)
Fantastic poem! 😀