THE OLD SWING:

Don´t you remember that rickety old swing?

Made by grandpa, of wood & new thick string,

In the garden, tied to that big ancient tree,

Made with love, especially for you & for me.

 

Don´t you remember, when we swung so high?

We would push each other right up to the sky,

We would talk to the birds & fly over big trees,

We´d listen to secrets of the passing breeze.

 

Don´t you remember, when the sun went down?

And us still swinging, over far lights of the town,

Over the voice of Mama, calling us back home,

Remember, when it was our world & ours alone?

 

Don´t you remember that rickety old swing?

Now of cracked old wood & limp frayed string,

Mere creaking memories, of our childhood gone,

Whispering in winds, of those lost sung songs.