The Boat House
I grew up on the riversideIn a quaint little town.
In the summer you'd never see
Us kids wearing a frown.
We'd hang out in the boat house,
Our private get away.
With no parental supervision,
All we'd do was play.
The boat house was my get away,
A place of solitude.
A place to go when I felt low
To change my attitude.
I caught my first fish there,
I got my first kiss there,
I raise a toast to the boat house
With heartfelt gratitude.
In that rugged old boat house
Was the story of my past.
It's where I smoked my first cigarette,
By the way, it was my last.
It was in that old boat house
Where I first said I love you.
That boat house could tell you
I said that to a few.
The boat house was my get away,
A place of solitude.
A place to go when I felt low
To change my attitude.
I caught my first fish there,
I got my first kiss there,
I raise a toast to the boat house
With heartfelt gratitude.
We lost that old boat house
Back in nineteen ninety five.
A hurricane blew it away
And left a teardrop in my eye.
I miss that old boat house
But I'll keep the memories.
Of all fun under the sun,
With all my friends and me.
The boat house was my get away,
A place of solitude.
A place to go when I felt low
To change my attitude.
I caught my first fish there,
I got my first kiss there,
I raise a toast to the boat house
With heartfelt gratitude.
©Bob Simpson, All rights reserved
I
Poetry by JustBob
Read 650 times
Written on 2017-06-06 at 00:39
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