Friday's Whims of the Time Traveler 11.0: Spring 2005
The Park
by Belinda Roddie
The park was lively with people, laughter,
and soccer games, shoes squeaking in the grass
as the checkered orb spiraled in the air.
We had a picnic there of sandwiches, sodas, and candy,
clothed in all colors; my mom was clad in orange hues,
my dad in white, and my sister proudly displayed
her pigtails in blue and violet ribbons.
I passed children twirling and tumbling on the playground
and sat on a bench, watching.
Then Dad joined me and said, It's hard, isn't it,
to grow but yearn to be free and young?
And he gave me some chocolates from the picnic basket
and said, this is for trying.
The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since spring of 2005.
by Belinda Roddie
The park was lively with people, laughter,
and soccer games, shoes squeaking in the grass
as the checkered orb spiraled in the air.
We had a picnic there of sandwiches, sodas, and candy,
clothed in all colors; my mom was clad in orange hues,
my dad in white, and my sister proudly displayed
her pigtails in blue and violet ribbons.
I passed children twirling and tumbling on the playground
and sat on a bench, watching.
Then Dad joined me and said, It's hard, isn't it,
to grow but yearn to be free and young?
And he gave me some chocolates from the picnic basket
and said, this is for trying.
The work you see here has not been edited nor altered since spring of 2005.
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