Old Swing

Old swing - why do you stand so silent? The grayness of your wood is rough and worn
The wind and rains have robbed you of your beauty -- your rusted chains, forsaken and forlorn.

I look upon the "rainbowed" seat and ponder -- so curved and warped by season and by time
Old swing -- I view you tenderly, in pity -- for all the sorrows that you feel are mine.

There was a time you danced in summer breezes - the singing birds gave sweetest melody
The earth was young and ladened us with fragrance -- and yellow sunshine smiled on you and me!

The happy days! So many hours you gladdened. You filled the air with laughter, song, and sky!
A magic world of gladness. And once again my heart leaps out in rhythm to catch and hold the memories gone by!

Old swing -- the birds took flight and left you. The storm clouds came and covered you with gloom --

And there you stand -- abandoned -- longing -- weeping -- for happy days that came -- but left too soon!

Orvetta's thoughts: Looking out my window on this cold bleak day of January, the "Old Swing" stands in my view - silent and desolate-looking with the snow and grayness of the day draped over it.

My mind keeps filling up with the beginning days of this "Old Swing" - crude, unpolished, handmade by my late husband. But firm, strong, and accurately built with the 2 x 4's and scraps of the repair shop - affectionately fashioned for the happy little hearts that blessed our home!

But life slips through our fingers. If we but knew we'd hold and cherish each sweet moment that is born.