School Days

School Years

Remembering elementary school years,

The Ticonderoga pencils, friends I hold dear.

My thoughts slip back many decades ago,

When life, love, and laughter within me glowed.

Some don’t share memories I hold tight,

Of chalkboards, felt erasers, doing what was right.

It was a time of allegiance each saying it proudly,

An understanding that’s missing nowadays sadly.

It was a time of baseballs and games played outdoors,

We children played and the referees kept meaningful scores.

It was a time of competition, scoreboards, and more,

And victors held high their trophies they adored.

It was a time when simplicity reigned,

Standards held high good grades proclaimed.

No one was overlooked as all were encouraged,

To do our best, no one was discouraged.

As I linger there and watch what was then,

Sitting with Ticonderoga pencils in hand.

It was worth every day that I attended,

The small rural school that was splendid.

So now I turn from the memories so dear,

But time has played its hand year after year.

I sit gray-headed, wrinkled hands suspended,

Over keyboards, pencils missing, fingers extended.

It was a time, those years that I wrote upon paper,

That I seek to keep deep within me like a vapor.

And let it out for all to see and read and remember,

A time with friends, baseball, and elementary school members.