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