Spittin Out The Seeds

There was a time when summer just wasn’t summer without eating a slice of ice cold watermelon.  Once my brother and I knew there was one in the house, all our attention was focused on convincing our mother that to not let us have a slice was something akin to child abuse.  She would send us out on the back steps where we would sit and enjoy the cool, sweet, juicy melon while “spittin” out the seeds.

Back when I was just a boy, in the summer stores were sellin
Whole ones, halves and quarters of ice cold watermelon
My mom would sometimes bring one home and cut us off some slices
Send us out on the back steps, leave us to our devices

I’d bite into the sweet, cold flesh, juice dripping down my shirt
While capturing the melon seeds to spit out in the dirt
Spitting out the seeds you see, was really half the fun
To see which one of us would win and spit the farthest one

Yeah, those were the good old years, too bad they long have  past
Seems like all life’s simple things never seem to last
The things we liked to do back then are different then today
The ice cold watermelon is a part of yesterday

But for all things there’s a reason, lessons to be learned
Things that you can use where other people are concerned
Like when I hear from others who are quick to list my needs
I simply save the good stuff while spittin out the seeds

About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in Adulthood, Childhood, Humor, Life, Memories, Nostalgia, Poetry, Reflection, Rhyme, Youth and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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