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Rated: E · Other · History · #1979082
I wrote this poem reflecting my love for antiques and days of more simple times.
I have a dream…

It’s a simple, but difficult dream.
It’s one that fills the heart with warmth
and kindness.
Memories of a more simple
and less difficult time.

Memories of a fire glowing with warmth
of a wood stove and the smell of fresh
baked homemade cookies as the winter chill
cuts the earth as a dagger made of ice.

I have a dream…

Shop keepers bustling about getting ready
to open a new day.
Shoppers excitedly wait for the doors to open
and see the wondrous things that await them.

Listen to the sounds…

Wagons driving by with their load of flour sacks
awaiting to become piping hot loaves
of delicious homemade bread.

Children shouting in the streets
playing kick the can.
Their dogs barking wildly as they try
to get in on the fun.

The clip clop sounds of horse riders riding by
and if you can, the birds.

Children in the mercantile store begging mommy
to buy one stick of candy each.
Pulling at her while she looks at a bolt of
fabric for a much needed new dress.

These are some of the sights, smells,
and sounds of my dream.
A street of Garfield back in the 1800's.

If you listen hard enough,
you might hear it in the wind.

If you look hard enough,
you just might see it.
.

By: Sharon Jones
© Copyright 2014 redbaron (redbaronj at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1979082