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.