Hymnal For Progress

Over the past few days I have been set and focused in working on a poem that I hoped would stand as adedication to “Days of Old”. Or should I more clearly refer to “Ways of Old”. Days that were before “Technology” appeared to take control and alter lives, sometimes for the better, But victims are often ways that helped to develop imagination in a childs life.

In that respect I refer to childhood games that are now lost forever to memories of those of us who lived through them, now filling space along with the growth of silver in our hair. Some progress has changed life and not for the better in my view, when grounds now grown silent , when sounds of children playing now fill and ring in memories.

This is where todays Poem comes to life. In ways it is the thoughts of a narrative who misses those days when the sounds of childrens games rang in the air. For example One Such childhood game that was most common was “Red Rover” a game that involved many children all whose noises brought the sound of joy in the air. Now those same grounds are decorated with silence and the odd vocals of those passing by.

This is a post that has had myself lost in thoughts of childhood days and such games..

Having said all of this, Please Enjoy This Poem Below:

---

_{((Some Images Posted here on this blog are Not of My Production. BUT copyrite remains with those who Own and took such images.))}

---

Hymnal For Progress



Wandering streets I cannot name, my shame,
With no moves to reclaim any old  name.
In changing times they strive to fit in well,
 Grounded and confined in their own grand swell. 


Country boys with different toys for noise,
Days of old long past few recall the joys.
Standing here on the wings of yesterday,
Wishing I could again return to play.


When technology stayed away from there,
And children wandered far without a care.
Mothers cooking did us well, no complaint,
Many were sinners who would dare acquaint.


The wheels of progress have rolled through this town,
While some remain alone waiting to drown.
Longing for days of old thus are untold,
Except rivers of memoirs now gone cold.


Red Rover no longer hangs in the air,
No cry to scare now, who stands a prayer.
The wheels still roll through, children now sit glued,
Lost in progress as silence fills the mood.



 
©  Pat Fitzgerald 2023

---

Thank you for visiting this page and yet spending time reading this post. I am thankful that so many enjoy, read and comment on my poetry. Which for me is a journey that for the past few years have become, one that I have enjoyed sharing with the world. Therefore thank you for joining me on this little journey.

MiSTAKES & TYPOS:

On occasions Mistakes and typos make their way onto the finished and published post. This has never been on purpose but at times they miss my eye when editing posts. BUT rest assured I correct and update the posts the moment I discover any such mistakes. Yet some do take a little longer than other because I have or may not find them. Thank you for understanding this.

PLEASE BE POLITE:

I welcome comments that folks decide to post. BUT I always ask that comments are in a Polite manner.

However I do misspell and will correct. IF YOU WISH TO POINT OUT MISTAKES, Please take into consideration that If I make mistakes they are not on purpose. Thank You for understanding any mistakes.

When possible I ask that you consider clicking on adverts that appear here on the page, By clicking on adverts helps in a tiny and very minimal way in paying for keeping this Blog running. They do not pay very much But all helps, Thank You for understanding!

In finishing please stay safe and take care, also when possible show a little loving care to those about you in society who may be in need of such loving care. A little positive output in life is a great start for folks in a world hit with rushing about in their own world.

Until Next Time, Cheers.

---

Buy Me A COFFEE to Help with upkeep of this Blog!

Would you like to buy me a Coffee? I always welcome someone to come visit and join me for a coffee. Please click on the button to support this page by Buying me a coffee. I love to sit with coffee in hand and compose such poetry as you have read here.

I welcome any Donation that will go towards the upkeep of this blog, I will never ask OR Insist on a Donation, BUT IT does help a whole lot in keeping this blog running. If you decide to donate however Little it is. Thank You.

I also ask that you click on the adverts as they help provide a little income towards upkeep. again Thank You