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.
SC
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