0NE DAY- SEVERAL YEARS AG0 WHILE THINKING 0F MY CHILDHOOD I WR0TE THIS P0EM WITH MY BROTHERS AND MYSELF IN MIND...
A Gift of Laughter
Three sets of dusty bare feet, and dirty faces,
Rambling the woods and a few other neat places.
We'd chase butterflies, catch frogs,
Caught dad not looking and teased the hogs.

Picked strawberries in the wild strawberry patch,
Waited for hours for baby chicks to hatch.
Went swimmin' in the ponds, creeks and streams,
Shared with each other our wishes and dreams.
Long days spent in the summer sun,
Working the fields, seeking our own kind of fun.
Sad memories of childhood is not what I'm after,
But remembering those days as, "A Gift of laughter."
Mary Frances King`

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