THE WRITINGS OF RUTH MARTIN
The Preacher's Wife

NOSTALGIA

Sometimes when Memory stirs you
With her haunting, sweet refrain,
Do you ever have a longing
To be a child again?

Do you long to wander barefoot
Through clover deep and sweet,
Or feel the playful ripples
Of the creek rush 'round your feet?

Would you like to go a-fishing
In the pond down by the lane?
Would you like to romp a-laughing
In a drenching summer rain?

Would you drift through days of sunlight
That never seemed to end,
When a thousand happy fancies
Hide just around the bend?

Would you chase a million fireflies
As dusk falls 'cross the way?
Would you ask Good-Fairy to grant your wish
To be a child --for a day?

RRM90

all rights. ruthrmartin.1990

Comments on the Poem 'Nostalgia'

Probably no one would choose to be a child permanently. Peter Pan was a charming little boy and we all loved and envied him. But Peter never knew the satisfaction of living and experiencing each unfolding and progressive stage of life as normal people do. There is a proper time for each stage of this life and the time for childhood is when we're children. But sometimes ,sweet memory tip-toes upon us and we find ourselves happily recalling those glorious days of childhood. I realize, sadly, that not everyone had a happy childhood. However, most of us can look back on those fleeting days that were gone so soon, and lose ourselves for for a little while in re-living those magical golden days with genuine pleasure.

I had a wonderful childhood. How well I remember sunlit and fun-filled days that seemed to never end. I remember hours of carefree play, laughter and bright young voices calling and echoing in my mind. Games were simple and innocent...the "good guys"always won and the "bad guys" always lost. Imaginations were colorful and active and far more satisfying than store-bought playthings. Quarrels were few and quickly settled . Even rainy days were good..nothing is more fun than a splashing romp in a warm summer rain. Indoor games took over as we listened to the singing rain and watched the silvery showers fall.

And do you remember the twilight hour, just before time to go in for "supper".? That reluctant releasing of the daylight play mixed with hungry anticipation of a good sit-down meal at the family table? And in summer, when nights were warm and clear and bright and fragrant with night-blooming flowers , a million fireflies flickered off and on in the soft darkness. Children could safely play outdoors at night -time until it was almost bedtime. Each generation will have it's memories of childhood days. I am thankful for my own childhood and for those many precious memories , nostalgic and beautiful, where nothing ages or fades; where everything is ever-new , ever -fresh, ever-loved; treasures to cherish and to occasionally share.

WRITINGS OF RUTH MARTIN

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