Poem – Those Days

I miss those days when the mornings seemed young.
Where the neighbors came to the door with a smile that sung.
I miss those days when the simple things had time.
And lunches were in paper bags with notes that did rhyme.

I remember my great Aunt Nelle with her bowl of butterscotch.
And sitting for hours to stories without a wristwatch.
What we had back then were connecting moments.
Out in the kitchen, baking cookies and donuts.

When the neighbor’s peach tree was ripe and full.
All the neighbors came to taste, pick, and to pull.
Together, from buckets, we would slice all the fruit.
To make wonderful things when winter took root.

I miss those simpler times where small things mattered more.
We had less money and no desire to go to the store.
We entertained ourselves, catching the fireflies in mason jars.
Pretending that each one was a magical earth star.

~Suzanne Wagner~