The Old Swimming Hole

Down the incline of dirt

Back to the haven of childhood

A magnificent oak tree towering up to the sky

Where I lean to see the strong current of the creek

Closing my eyes tightly I listen

To the rippling of the water

And to the chirping of tree toads

And birds singing their haunting tunes

The quiet calm comes over me again

As I recognize the smells that still come alive--

Of earth and clay, of fish that find their home there

Of wild honeysuckle and sweet johnny jump-ups

And as I let the surrondings take me back in my memory

I hear the sweet sound of girls' giggles as they play--

Wading through the cold, clear water on a summer's day

Jumping from the vine ropes of the trees to make a splash

"Who can swim the farthest?"

"Who can make the biggest splash?"

"Who can dive or jump into the deepest part?"

"Who is brave enough to swim over the dam?"

Memories now flooding, and the tears stream down my face

The joys of a childhood so simple, filled with such joy and beauty

The years have slipped through my fingertips

Like the wildflowers and strawberries collected as a prize

A cherished and treasured place, where dreams are never too big to dream

Where sisters become friends and bonds are made never to break

Part of the sanctuary of growing up on that old farm loved so dearly

Found in the refuge, the strength, the shelter...of the old swimming hole