Bruised knees, rushing home for dinner.
The days that were, when minutes could feel like hours, hours could feel like minutes.
Tatty jumpers, worn shoes, a light heart.
Tatty Jumpers
Bruised knees, rushing home for dinner.
The days that were, when minutes could feel like hours, hours could feel like minutes.
Tatty jumpers, worn shoes, a light heart.
Thank you and you’re welcome! 😊
Cute poem!
Thank you for checking out my blog, by the way.
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Thank you! 😊
Ah, what a lovely post.
Thank you for your lovely comment. I think all we can do is make the best of each day, whatever our age. I wasted too many days not realising that. Thank you again 😊
I remember when I was a child. There were days (Particularly school days) that seemed endless and there were entire months (Vacation times) that seemed to flash past faster than lightning. Our sense of time was attuned to our sense of pleasure back in those days. Now that I am elderly and approaching the end of my life, the lightning fast days are back again. So I make sure to make the most of each day that I am blessed to live.
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Lovely memory. As if it was yesterday!
Those are memories I have too. It was a different world then, parents wanted us out of the house and were happy for us to look after ourselves.
As a group of kids in Coventry in the early 1960s our parents would say ‘Go play on the grass’. Meant a game of football on a large patch of grass between the three story flats. Jumpers as goalposts definitely. Kerbs on roadsides were for throwing the ball back and forth hoping to catch the edge and get it bounce back. A point won to get to twenty and win. Cheers. All the best.
concordo, la ricchezza della semplicità, tracciando percorsi segreti tra l’erba alta di angoli di prato incolto
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Let us all recreate those days for the next generation❤️
Lost in the past……😊
Where are those days gone too?
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in search of lost time 🙂