ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

I think as kids we all had an attatchment to playing on swings, I had a particular good one that my Dad built.

The Swing That My Dad Made For Me

When I was just a little girl,
my favorite place to be,
was soaring high upon the swing,
that my Dad made for me.
Twas hung from neath the gum tree,
on a branch so big and round,
that when I climbed upon the seat,
could barely touch the ground.
I'd stand up on my tiptoes,
and push with all my might,
my legs stretch out and tuck back in,
my spirits feeling light.

Those very special moments,
when I'd close my eyes up tight,
and let my thoughts just drift away
to places out of sight.
I'd soar up over mountains,
through valleys soft and green,
over lakes and rivers,
Oh, the places I have been.
I'd imagine I'm an eagle,
gliding on the wing,
Or sometimes I'm a sparrow,
I could be most anything.
My mother, she would call me,
I'd pretend I didn't hear,
For nothing else could steal me,
from the thoughts I held so dear.

Now these memories are precious,
I hold them dear to me,
When I imagine I'm back on the swing,
That my Dad built for me.
Sue Pearce ©

That's a fine poem Sue.

Sorry to be a pain ( I usually am ) but I really believe that you don't need that last stanza. The poem tells us that, you don't need to explain, we get it , the rest of the poem is good enough and adequate to give us the message.

I think you are right Nev it almost seems like an add on.

Good poem Sue

Robert Alan Micheal Pacey esq

A lovely poem Sue. Such a simple thing as a swing can bring such pleasure to a child. Thanks for sharing.

Heather