Little boys in scuffle-shoes
Line up on streets of gravel
Grass stained knees and rosy cheeks
How does their life unravel?
Sweat stained shirts and matted hair
Dirt in all their creases
Fling a ball up in the air
And time for them just ceases
Ears burnt red ‘neath rag-top caps
Down the pond for crawdads
Hoping summer might never end
All-in-one they’re good lads
Joy their song they hear not the blues
Those little boys in scuffle-shoes
Author notes
In the old days, the boys didn't need much for enjoyment, just the great outdoors, a ball, and some worn out old shoes to protect their feet from the gravel.
Comments
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umm looking for crawdads honey lets go looking for crawdads though I never could eat them. No wonder I love you like I do. Lord have mercy this makes me smile. In the creek for crawdads don't leave out the little girls we did our share lol. Ennovy and I had not the love of Barbie dolls it seems .
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We used to have one kid who never wore shoes in summer even walked on
the hot asphalt barefooted. Me, I was always a tenderfoot...lol
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How true your words of little boys...this reminded me of my brothers and when I was a little girl. Only thing was I was in some scuffy's myself...lol....learning how to play baseball.....excellent poem
novy'
I
you
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