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
Ink lings 