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Echoes from the past
Are memories that last
Not ever present
But coming now and then
Of times that have been.
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Once there was a simpler time
In this life of mine
When travel was by mule and wagon
And for hauling the crops of harvest
To the barn to store away
The corn and bales of hay.
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Often we rode the wagon to Grandma's for a visit.
Crossing the creek under the hill
Was a special thrill
When we saw the water go splish-splash
As the mules gave a dash
To cross and get a head start up the hill.
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The wagon was used to carry the family to church
Giving many a bump and lurch
For those on the spring board seat
And the kids sitting in back
Swinging their feet.
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Bill and Buddy plodded right along at a steady clip clop
Never bothering to stop
Unless the reins were pulled and the command to whoa
And then a giddy up to go.
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Arriving at our destination a shade tree was found
To park and jump to the ground
Leaving the mules standing in the shade
Dozing until time to take us home.
Happy and content were we riding along
Singing a happy song.
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Now the wagon's broken wheel is a yard decoration
Reminiscent of days gone by.
I look and breathe a sigh
While echoing in my mind is a memory of a simpler time
When the wagon was our transportation.
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Jane Ward Smith

July 19, 2006
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Midi playing "Precious Memories"
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