There is a Place I Used to Go


Years ago I used to go to a place up north just to take it slow. Red rocks galore was the scene, along with a creek so serene. A winding road that went to and fro. Oh this place I used to love so.


Alas 'oer the years
I began to shed tears
as it started to get too jammed
on weekends forget it it was crammed
with people and dogs and vehicles galore
it wasnt even pretty anymore.


I used to walk down to the water and sit on a rock and be cool now its so littered with glass and junk deposited by a fool.

there are still pretty sights to see
in this place I used to love to be
but very seldom do I go there now
all in the name of the future somehow
I do not want to be
in the place I used to want to go see.....



By Amy (fabulousfilly@aol.com)


 



 



A Favorite Place



This is aplace I still go to One of mt favourite places. I live in a town and my bother lives in a beautiful village



My brother痴 garden is a bit of heaven
Away from the worries and cares of life
A place I can sit and be at peace
As I forget about everyday strife.
Lots of trees, so cool and shady
Where the birds also like to visit
Germaniums and lavender bushes
Sweet fragrances where-ever I sit


There is a breakfast room for mornings
And a special place for tea
For the garden has so many rooms
Yet I know where I love to be
For my favourite place in the garden
As I just let the hours drift by
Is when I sit on the veranda
While above is a cloudless sky



By Doreen Hampshire (hampshiredoreen@gmail.com)


 



 
There is a Place I Used to Go



There is a place I used to go
Helping to make a speeding world slow
I'd sit on a limb of tree
With my straw to shoot a pea
When I hit my brother with that pea, my smile would glow.



By Sharon (ByGolly25@aol.com)


 



 
A Place I Used to Go



So many places in my life
Where I would go to ease my strife
A place in the woods I'd go with my love
Where we'd lay and talk under the skies above


I loved to go to Aurora, Missouri
Where life was never in a hurry
I spent my childhood summers there
Without a worry, without a care


I remember a place I used to go
It was a quiet place in San Antonio
Brackenridge Park, in the gardens Japanese
And spend an hour or two enjoying the breeze


I used to go to the Market Place
Always had a smile on my face
It was a happy, noisy place to be
I loved it there, I felt so free


But every place I used to go, I find
Is just a great memory in my mind
Will I ever go back? I hardly doubt it
Will just spend my life now, thinking about it.



By susi Taylor (Texaswishr@aol.com)


 



 
A Place I Used to Go



There is a place I used to go
When I wanted to get away from
my father, who would call out:
"Marilyn, get the hoe and come out here."


Back when I was a teenager, My father grew most of what we ate. They were the days before the roto-tiller,
They were the days when he worked his garden with a push-plow.


There is a place I used to go
When I wanted to get away from
my mother, who would call out:
"Marilyn, bring in some kindling so we can start supper."


Back when I was a teenager,
Many housewives cooked on a wood-burning range.
They were the days before the electric stove,
They were the days when we had to chop wood.


There is a place I used to go,
When I wanted to get away from the calls to do chores.
That place was a quiet place underneath the house.
I would crunch low, enter the opening and hide.



By Marilyn (LaraOct7@aol.com)


 



 
Oldster's Vacation



There is a place I used to go,
But only in my dreams.
I believe I値l spend time tomorrow,
And go there again for life seems


To be getting the best of my daytimes,
So I値l make up a place to be;
I will lean back in my puffy hammock,
And swing under the old oak tree.


My eyes will close over sea waters,
Sands will blow over my toes, and
I値l hear the trickle of the tide,
As its rhythm with splash ebbs and flows.


I will smell the ocean that perfumeers
Try to copy in department stores,
And I値l hear the songs of old sailors,
As they moor their boats on the shores.


Then I値l watch some beachcombers
Metal detecting for all reasons,
And get in my dinghy and ride up an inlet,
Vacationing in my dreams.


禅il alas, I must open my eyes.



By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)


 











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