Old times were the very best
Cornfields, and barns with hens
That gave our breakfast, fresh;
Life was simpler then.
The water well was ready
To fill the pitcher full.
The stream was full of frogs
That croaked and senses lulled.
Lightening bugs in a jar–
We kept, then raised the lid
To let them join the others
In flight to where they hid.
Clothes were hanging on the line
To dry in breeze of air;
Nothing ever smelled so fresh
As clean sheets dried so fair!
Lard was in the bucket
To fry the chicken, crisp–
No worries of clogged arteries:
Real butter, churned by Sis.
Homemade ice cream made so sweet
With salt packed tight around it,
We’d turn, and turn, and turn some more
Waiting for the taste: a hit!
Modern days are filled with speed
And great technology,
But nothing beats the good ol’ days
When shooting stars we’d see.