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 Category:  Commentary and Philosophy Poetry
  Posted: July 5, 2020      Views: 189

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 ABOUT
BETHSHELBY 
BethShelby is retired from the printing and commercial art field. She is married and has four children and three grandchildren. She and her husband presently live in Tennessee.

Painting, photography, and writing are her passion. She has ha - more...

She is a top ranked author at the #69 position.

She is an accomplished novelist and is currently at the #8 spot on the rankings.

She is an accomplished poet and is currently at the #56 spot on this years rankings.

She is also an active reviewer and is holding the #10 spot on the top ranked reviewer list.

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Exceptional
This work has reached the exceptional level
Remembering my childhood
"Journey In Time" by BethShelby
Today, I took a holiday,
and I'm so glad I did.
I took a little trip in time
to when I was a kid.

It was exciting to go back
and drift down Mem’ry Lane--
to take another look at life--
with all its joys and pain.

I drifted back through recent years--
and even further still--
past toddlers taking wobbly steps--
across a grassy hill.

Past temporary growing pains
of early married years--
and awkward, early teenage days--
with fantasies and fears.

I was a little girl again
with freckles on my nose--
with pigtails and a pinafore--
and mud between my toes.

I smelled hot chocolate heating
on Grandma's old iron stove.
I picked the wild plums still growing
on trees out in the grove.

I placed my hand in my grandpa's,
as he limped out to his mill.
He taught me how to call the birds--
bobwhites and whippoorwill.

Upon their old tin roof, I heard
the sound of gentle rain,
and I galloped, playing horsey
on Grandpa's walking cane.

It felt so good to linger on
Grandma’s old porch swing--
and pass away the hours there
hearing the crickets sing.

The birds were also singing songs--
robins, and larks, I heard,
Their repertoire was mimicked by
 a passing mockingbird.

I saw my grandma churning milk
in a pottery crock.
In steady rhythm, she kept time
with ticking mantle clock.

I smelled a coat of fresh-laid wax
upon the hardwood floor--
and from the fireplace I could hear
the sizzling pine-wood roar.

I looked around and found myself
 a cozy little nook--
a spot where I could hide away
to read a fav’rite book.

I thought I’d take a little nap,
 snug in a feather bed.
Pulling up grandma's hand-made quilt,
I covered up my head.

Beside the rug, my fingers felt
a kitten's soft white fur.
I stroked him gently, and I heard
his motor start to purr.

I caught some tadpoles in the pond--
dipped with a homemade net.
I frolicked on the fresh-mowed lawn,
but I’m not finished yet.

In a storm-shelter dark and damp,
I heard the thunder roar--
smelled whiffs from a korosene lamp,
just like in days of yore.

Walking barefoot on fresh plowed ground,
I dropped a seed or two,
and inhaled scents of earth, so brown,
kissed by the morning dew.

Down pathways in a pasture, green--
toes dangling in a creek,
the air I breathed was fresh and clean--
breeze tickling my cheek.

I watched the moon and stars come out
into a velvet night,
while frogs and crickets hopped about,
with not a soul in sight.
 
I climbed the old pine tree-once more.
 and gazed on green above.
I found the peace I'd known before,
with God, and felt His love.

These things I did, and even more.
My holiday is through,
but as my journey ends today,
these things I know are true.

I’ve learned to  leave all cares behind--
there is no use to fret.
Worry is just a state of mind.
We can’t control a threat.

Anxiety is not worthwhile.
It only makes us sick.
It's really not that hard to smile.
Endurance is the trick.

Stick to the things we can control. 
Let go of all the rest--
and take a journey back in time--
to when you felt your best.

Rhyming Poetry Contest contest entry

Recognized

Author Notes
All the things mentioned here are favorite memories from my childhood.
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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