The old wooden swing
It bring back memories of the past
I always sat on it clutching the ropes tight
And watch the sky so vast
When I was small and wanted to rest
I snuggled into the swing deep
Then I sing a lullaby to myself
And in no time I fall asleep
The old swing gave our living room
A nice and elegant touch
When I was small, in my little hands
The rope of the swing I’d clutch
As I sit in the swing
Back and forth my parents pushed me
But they did it slowly when I yawn
Because they knew I was feeling sleepy
Oh, how I miss the old swing
As it’s not with me today
Right now I am watching
The garbage truck carries it far away.
Risha Ahmed (12 yrs)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/087-the-old-wooden-swing/
