When I was young, just a boy,
my father’s pride, my mother’s joy.
so well behaved, quiet and kind
always listened and quick to mind.

Just a bit older, eight or ten
milking cows, hoeing weeds,
that’s when heavier work began.
I gave my all to my family’s needs.

Slogged six long miles to unheated schools,
through clutching mud and icy pools.
Grew large, a lad into my teens,
some might think these imagined scenes.

Surrounded by females’ admiring eyes
of my trim physique and scholar’s mien.
I ignored their frequent heartfelt sighs,
far more mature than the usual teen.

Indulged in play on court and field,
showed great skill in many a game.
Urged on by neighbors and their pride,
I had no wish for all the fame.

I’ll not recount my further success,
too broad for this short page to show.
My children smile and pat my hand,
“Yes, dad; we know, we know, we know.”


Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to FADED MEMORIES

  1. C Ford says:

    A legend in his own mind :):)


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