Childhood

Childhood is the hot, sticky midsummer nights,
Spent drowned in laughter,
And the welcoming chirp of crickets.

Childhood is the carnival when it comes to town,
The bright Ferris wheel lights,
And the sweet, colorful snow cones.

Childhood is staring out your window,
Waiting for day to turn to night,
And for winters to melt into springs.

Childhood is counting the stars in the sky,
You could until a million-bazillion
And then you pick the shiniest one to make a wish on.

Childhood is Santa’s letters,
The little red envelope addressed to the “North Pole,”
And baking cookies and leaving cookies on Christmas Eve.

Childhood is promises and secrets,
Pinky-swears and the zipping of the lips,
Swearing to never tell a living soul.

Childhood is when there’s only today,
There is no tomorrow,
And there was no yesterday.

Childhood is jumping off swings,
The flying sensation you get when you’re in the air,
And the thump when you crash onto the ground.

Childhood is warm beach sand between your toes,
Looking for seashells and jumping fish,
Smelling the barbeque air.

Childhood is sleepovers,
Watching movies, eating popcorn,
Drinking soda, and planning each other’s weddings.

Childhood is never wasted never forgotten,
The innocence we look back on each day and laugh about,
It is the laughter and the joy that fills our lives,
And the memory of never growing old.

I remember...

I Remember...

I remember the sound of cars buzzing by,
the humid July nights looking out into the ocean.
I remember city lights bright as day,
lit up with sounds and moving pictures.
I remember the stuffy ballet studio,
filled with people ready as ever to rehearse.
I remember standing up on the promotion stage,
celebrating completing six years of elementary school.
I remember playing hide-and-seek in the dark,
behind sock drawers, and in closets.
I remember plunging into yearbooks,
laughing about our year.
I remember the orange and auburn Autumn,
the smell of burnt coffee and freshly copied papers.
I remember the crowded streets of San Francisco,
shoving our way through zillions of sightseeing tourists.
I remember fisherman’s wharf,
the strong aroma of seawater filling the air.
I remember the Fourth of July,
fire-crackers, popcorn and the scent of hot dogs.
I remember laughing our way through life;
pretending that we’d never grow old.