There is a path of disarray

That children leave behind,

A trail of toys not put away

Of clothes they cannot find.

Spills and spots and stains

so mysteriously do appear.

Like muddy footprints when it rains

and "no one's been in here!"

These are the growing pains

that mom and dad must share

Until they vanish like the stains

and are no longer there.

Then in immaculate solitude

all is in its place...

But lost somewhere in the interlude

Is childhood's smiling face.

~Clay Harrison~

Old Memories

There are those special memories

We cherish through the years'

Though most of them are happy ones

A few are touched by tears.

They all become more beautiful

The older now they grow,

And with their age they take their place

As days of long ago.

They are the pictures of the past

For which we sometimes yearn,

But which we know so well is gone

And which cannot return.

They have no market value in

Our commerce of today,

They are not even anything

That we can give away.

And yet those memories can play

A most important part,

As they inspire or console

Or elsewise help the heart.

~James J. Metcalfe~