I spent the best years of my life
Up on Reservoir Hill,
On Great Grandpas' 40 acres,
Outside of Placerville.
My days were unfailingly happy,
My disappointments few,
Amid fields of golden poppies,
‘Neath skies of china blue.
I’ve hiked Manzanita covered hills
And orchards lush with pears,
With pear juice dripping from my chin,
Till it washed away all cares.
Jackrabbits hid in ambush
Along each dusty trail,
The only other sound, the call
Of California quail.
Blackberries were my quarry
Beneath the summer skies,
Drenched with homemade ice cream,
And wrapped in the golden crust of Grandma’s pies.
Adventures with the neighbor kids
Were led by our pet raccoon,
With summer nights spent beneath the stars,
Lit by a flickering campfire and the moon.
Holidays meant Granddad’s house,
With kinfolk by the dozens,
And Great Grandma sharing memories
To entertained the cousins.
She’d share her tales of days gone by,
With eyes welled up with joy,
Recalling memories from her youth,
Back when even Grandpa was a boy.
And I soaked up each and every word.
And treasured every minute,
Memorizing every face,
And each expression in it.
Praying that my loved ones lives
Would stand the test of years,
And facing disillusionment
As reality tempered innocence with tears.
Now I too am a granddad
With memories of my own,
Sharing tales from long ago
Of precious souls I’ve known.
I’ve cherished each and every day
Through every joy and tear,
And I wouldn’t change a single thing.
I relish every year.
But oh to be a child once more,
And live on Reservoir Hill,
And face each day with childlike faith,
And walk once more the streets of Placerville.