Photo © Rebecca Pendel PhotographyVisit her website to see additional photos.
The photographer lives in Farrell, Pennsylvania, and specializes in
toy camera portrait photography.
Photo used with permission from Rebecca Pendel.
Photo Prompt: When We Were Young
Photo © Rebecca Pendel PhotographyVisit her website to see additional photos.
The photographer lives in Farrell, Pennsylvania, and specializes in
toy camera portrait photography.
Photo used with permission from Rebecca Pendel.
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This poem captures the same joy.
OVER THE HILL? WHAT? WHERE? I DIDN'T SEE NO HILL!!!
I often joke around,
And say I'm old as dirt,
I'm really only kidding,
A small attempt at mirth.
But as the years go by,
And my joints get somewhat stiff,
I often think of earlier times,
Of Youth...Oh what a gift!
To run with boundless energy,
The wind beneath my wings,
To climb a tree or jump a fence,
Or a hundred childhood things.
But we often make a mistake,
On this path of growing old,
By giving up our hopes and joys,
And let our hearts turn cold.
Physically my body,
May slow me down a bit,
For my soul and mind, it's handsprings,
Inside I'm just a kid!!!!
we walked hand in hand down the lane
aware of our present stain
playing catch up with the sun
searching high and low for fun
we grew up before the county line
and cried beneath tall pines
tip toe on fence tops
till the spinning stops
hardly smiling we never spoke
hiding what we had broke
the lack of care bring so much freedom!!!
When we were young
We often dreamed
Of the splendour of being old.
Now that we're old
We often dream
Of the splendour of being young.
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