Rhythmic Stories September 6, 2020

My Hillside

The hill where I lived as a small child
let me run free and even go wild

The rocks were so big that we would climb
playing King of the mountain and singing nursery rhymes

we were barefoot running up and down sandy roads
stopping now and then to try and catch horny toads

there were toys all around though not bought from a store
our hillside was our toy box, always ready to explore

a stick could always be found in our hand
they would become swords for us to band

we would choose up sides and fence it out
sometimes scrapes and bruises would mount

we were carefree and we didn’t mind
as I think of it now, it was a moment in time

the hill where I lived gave me back what I took
I return many days in my mind to take a look

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