I came across some pictures
Of long ago, black and whites
It held some very young children
In their summer time delights



We had probably been out fishing
Or swimming at the pond
Running through the cornfields
To the meadow just beyond



Sitting on our PaPas' porch
He was a farming man
Driving up on his tractor
With a melon in his hands



Taking pride in what he grew
Bringing the biggest he could find
Sitting there so patiently
As he cut through the rind



Our jeans rolled up and barefoot, too
Clothes cover in Texas sand
With smiles of youth so long ago
Holding watermelon in our hands



Upon our face was the sweetest juice
The ground covered in little black seeds
Oh, what a summer day that was
A joyful time indeed



I wish I could sit on that old front porch
For just a little time
But now it's barely standing
So I'll visit it in my mind



I know what my brothers and sister
Would love to say...
How they wish our children could have known
"Those watermelon days"



©Brenda Conley
2002
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author
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