Image: Neighbourhood
Backyard Where Boys Roam
(Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons under the Creative
Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license)
Boyhood arena for
countless excitements
Catapult in the back pocket.
Without a care of danger
They roam the large
expanse of wasteland
Light undergrowth rich
with little creatures hiding
to be discovered
Hedges and bushes
a treasure trove lined
with childhood abundance
Sanaarizvi at d'Verse in Quadrille Q. 252
Quadrilling without a care in the world
Ha--- so much fun you could have (but I never had a catapult)
ReplyDeleteAh, what a wonderful childhood!
ReplyDeleteI remember that boy’s arena - no catapult for me, Hank! But I did roam wasteland with the boys, mostly climbing trees, making dens and picking wildflowers.
ReplyDeleteLoving this. Bringing back memories of the large field behind our house....undeveloped....where my friend Mary Alyce and I played for hours on end. Pretending to be cowboys galloping up our very own Boot Hill. Those were the days when kids played outside till supper time...and always needed a bath in the clawfoot tub at the end of the day!
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully written, Hank. Yes, childhood is a treasure trove of memories ❤️❤️
ReplyDeleteEnjoyable and filled with nolstagia, awesome poem that took me back down those same streets in my own childhood, well done Hank! 🩵
ReplyDeleteI love that they were able to play carefree. That is important for personal growth and the imagination.
ReplyDeleteYou captured that carefree and joyous sense that accompanies childhood soooo well! It brought me back in time.
ReplyDelete