Growing Up In Wilsonville (POEM)
I grew up in the country
It made me who I am.
I have traveled this world and seen a few things
But I am tired of all the glam.
My country roots they call me home,
To a place where land meets sky.
Where friends of old are deep like roots
Filling me with memories as time goes by.
What do I remember most?
I remember a happy life.
We ran outside, we biked, shot hoops
Never gloomed by societal strife.
We were never bombarded with such toxic waste,
Just playtime and country life.
Yes we were all pretty innocent,
Raised to know right and wrong,
We stood our ground, we went to church
Our parents raised us strong.
I tell my daughter who is now the age,
I was when I left rural life.
I tell her to hold on to her integrity
Because there is indeed an afterlife.
The story goes full circle,
As we watch our own children grow.
And how their childhood memories
Teach them lessons we all know.
We learned together in childhood,
Lessons making us who we are.
Now we scatter everywhere living near and far.
But we take our country roots,
Carry them in our core.
As we travel on our journey,
Until we travel no more.
Wilsonville it shaped me,
And for that I owe big thanks.
And I hope when I get to heaven
Childhood friends will fill angelic ranks.
God Bless! ~ L. Davis #thepoetfarmer